f 


TAN, 


PURITAN. 


A    POEM 


IN    SEVEN    CANTOS. 


CINCINNATI: 

PRINTED   15V    ROBERT   CLARKE    AND   COMPANY. 


MDCCCLXV1II. 


'A Wu 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

GEO.  W.  HOUK, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United   States,  in   and  for 
the  Southern  District  of  Ohio. 


CANTO  i .      The  Voyage. 

CANTO  II Celebrated  Voyages. 

CANTO  III The  Landing. 

CANTO  IV Retrospect. 

CANTO  V Settlement. 

CANTO  VI Return  to  England. 

CANTO  ril;  .  Final  Success. 


PURITAN. 


CANTO   THE   FIRST. 


THE  V  Or  AGE. 


I. 

HAT  quivering  craft  braves  Ocean's  stormy  deep  ? 
What  daring  will  bears  on  in  such  a  gale? 
The  boreal  winds,  fierce,  unobstructed,  sweep, 
The  autumnal  clouds  droop  low,  and  darkly  veil 
The  pointed  mast's  damp  cords  and  tattered  sail; 
There,  thro'  o'erwhelming  wave  appears  the  bow  ! 
In  wracking  trough,  a  feather  were  less  frail; 
The  upper  works  rise  torn  to  fragments  now! 
Yet  onward  course  she  holds,  with  bold  unwavering  prow. 

II. 

Floats  there  a  god  that  naught  on  earth  can  scathe? 
Or  saddest  outcast  that  dares  tread  no  land  ; 
Or  wretched  victim  of  dread  sovereign's  wrath  ; 
Or  one  that  tempts  all  ills,  haply  to  strand 
Where  golden  treasure  doth  such  risks  demand  ? 
Draw  near  in  awe  and  wonder!      Can  it  be? 
Lo!  there  behold  the  hero; — See  him  stand 
In  human  form,  but  godlike  majesty; 
Unawed,  unsaddened,  calm  in  perfect  faith  is  he. 


6  PURIT3N.  [G»«« 

in. 

He  leans  against  the  creaking  mast,  and  feels 
The  Ocean's  pulse  in  every  trembling  beam; 
The  wind  holds  him  fast  bound,  and  now  reveals 
Beneath  his  long  dark  pilgrim's  gown,  the  gleam 
Of  sword  and  corselet;  and  his  eye  doth  seem 
To  pierce  thro'  mists  and  clouds,  and  view  beyond, 
The  land  of  hope  and  promise;  for  no  dream 
The  precious  words  that  he  but  now  hath  conned ; 
Tho'  wet,  wind-torn,  each  page  forbids  him  to  despond. 

IV. 

Is  it  responsive  to  that  fervent  prayer? 
The  sun  has  broken  thro'  the  murky  tide 
Of  ragged  clouds,  dark  fringes  trailing  bare 
Across  the  blue  beyond  ;   now  clear  descried 
In  sudden  light,  his  ills  seem  magnified  ! — 
Was  he  a  hero  thus  to  dare  alone? 
Behold  him  thrice  heroic;   by  his  side, 
His  arm  around  her,  clings  a  fragile  one; 
Too  dear;  her  every  pang  far  sorer  than  his  own. 

V. 

Her  eyes,  a  heavenly  blue,  with  his,  seek  heaven; 
In  that  too  sudden  brightness,  turn  again 
To  rest  on  him;  fond  Charite,  God  given, 
Blessing  divine,  nor  given  to  him  in  vain. 
How  fair  and  pallid!     Each  keen  throbbing  pain 
Her  unveil'd  temple  shows;  her  sunny  hair 
Rude,  wind-disheveled,  her  appa-rel  plain, 
Lacking  its  wonted  folds,  her  arms  half  bare, 
Seem  strained  to  save  one  treasure,  no  whit  safer  there. 


C"" 7-]  PURITAN. 

VI. 

It  is  indeed  upon  her  breast  a  child! 
A  tender  infant  that  there  knows  no  fears ; 
A  maid  beside,  close  clinging,  wailing  wild, 
Mingles  with  Ocean's  brine  her  early  tears; 
And  still  a  youth,  anear  the  sire  appears, 
Pale,  but  unmoved;  erect  in  earliest  pride, 
He  emulates  the  faith  that  he  reveres; 
The  storms  and  ills  of  earth  doth  proud  abide, 
His  stubborn  will  calls  God's,  and  grows  self-deified. 

VII. 

And  not  afar,  the  sturdy  followers  group 
Before  and  aft,  some  scores  seem  clustered  close  ; 
These  too  clasp  tender  treasures.     A  bold  troop, 
As  ever  crossed  the  Ocean.     Is  it  dross — 
A  faith  that  doth  the  human  soul  engross 
Until  it  rests  all  things  it  holds  most  dear — 
Against  all  human  senses  fears  no  loss — 
Trusting  a  Being  that  the  soul  draws  near, 
Who,  to  the  Spirit's  vision,  faith — alone  is  clear? 

VIII. 

What  matters  them,  if  howling  tempests  roar! 
What,  if  a  thousand  miles  of  storming  waves 
Spread  raging  either  side;   behind,  before; 
What,  tho'  the  lightning  midnight  blackness  paves ! 
What,  tho'  the  quivering,  shattered  bark  scarce  saves 
The  precious  freight  of  all  that  mortals  prize, 
From  dreadful  plungings  to  dark  watery  graves  ! 
What,  tho'  one  dead  in  their  sad  vision  lies  ! 
Is  not  their  life  a  pilgrimage,  and  Heaven  the  prize? 


8  PURIT3N.  [£>«•  i. 

IX. 

The  ship  is  damp  and  dismal,  scattered  o'er 
With  many   fragments  of  the  broken  deck  ; 
Heard  ye  that  startling  cry  !     Those  brave  before, 
Seized  with  dismay,  their  dreadful  doom  deplore ; 
Not  only  are  the  upper  works  a  wreck, 
Amidship's  beam  is  wrenched,  what  now  can  check 
The  wild  waves'  fatal  power !     She  settles  low  ! 
Each  wave  breaks  higher  up — a  hair — a  speck — 
As  sure  as  life  ebbs  out — however  slow, 
When  bright  arterial  current  from  a  wound  doth  flow — 

X. 

60  surely  that  fell  stream,  still  flowing  in, 
Will  still  the  throbs  of  full  an  hundred  hearts  ; 
Is  there  no  help?     The  knight  doth  hush  the  din, 
The  faint  gives  strength — he  hopeful   hope   imparts, 
And  hastens  on,  if  haply  human  arts 
May  here  suffice,  God  willing,  to  repair 
The  fearful  vent!     "  He  ne'er  his  righteous  thwarts, 
But  gives  the  weak  His  power,  and  doth  declare 
He  will  bless  them  that  serve  Him ;  wherefore  need  ye  fear." 

XI. 

Aye,  He  who  knew  their  future,  there  had  stored 
An  instrument  for  e'en  this  dread  hour's  need ; 
Whose  aid  they  never  vainly  had  implored. 
With  wise  and  patient  labor,  they  succeed  — 
The  breach  repair.     From  this  great  danger  freed, 
Now  many  stand  about  him,  and  implore 
Ere  certain  doom  devour  them,  to  relead 
Them  back  to  their  late  haven — to  restore, 
At  least  their  lifeless  forms  to  that  dear  native  shore. 


Canto  /.]  PURITAN.  9 

XII. 

Sadly  he  listened  to  their  sore  complaint, 
Speechless  he  waited  till  they  ceased  to  speak; 
And  if  a  tear  had  gathered,  quick  restraint 
Forbade  it  damp  his  dark  and  furrowed  cheek. 
For  e'en  the  gentle  dame,  so  worn  and  meek, 
Had  prayed  him  pause;  her  tender  buds  to  spare, 
Where  waves  grew  wilder,  and  the  winds  more  bleak ; 
If  for  an  instant  touched  with  others' care, 
Unwavering  will — his  stern  unfaltering  words  declare. 

XIII. 

"Doth  God  divide  his  domain?     Doth  His  care 

But  over  half  the  Ocean's  waves  extend? 

Will  He,  whose  mercy  hath  sufficed  each  where, 

No  longer  from  the  raging  storms  defend  ? 

The  sea  is  His — He  made  it,  and  doth  send 

His  breath  in  winds  athwart  it,  to  and  fro ; 

They  smite  the  clouds;  hail,  snow,  and  rains  descend; 

They  smite  the  sea,  the  waves  to  mountains  grow  ; 
He  wills — bright  skies — calm  seas,  make  earth  with  beauty 
glow. 

XIV. 

"Why  are  ye  here  upon  this  unknown  sea? 

Did  youthful  fervor  urge  a  headlong  course? 

Ye  know  full  well  how  long  and  prayerfully 

Ye  dwelt  upon  this  way;  in  sage  discourse, 

How  every  ill  and  peril  I  with  force 

Did  seek  portray,  that  none  might  venture  hence 

In  weakness,  making  foul  this  stream's  pure  source; 

Delays  befell,  thro'  God's  good  providence, 
To  winnow  out  the  chaff;  who  sought  a  fair  pretence 


IO 


PURITAN.  !>»» 


xv. 

"  Might  now  at  ease  on  England's  shores  repose; 
Or  share  their  cherished  brethren's  patient  toil, 
Within  the  hospitable  realme  they  chose, 
With  many  exiled  from  their  native  soil, 
When  their  fair  homes  the  spoiler  joyed  to  spoil. 
Ye  chose  the  better  part — ye  vowed  to  find 
Some  far  retreat  beyond  the  world's  turmoil, 
A  refuge  for  your  babes,  for  they  had  pined 
Like  prisoned  birds  in  lands  too  cumbered,  tho'  most  kind. 

XVI. 

"A  tender  foster-mother  twelve  long  years 
Hath  Holland  been;  but  her  own  children  earned 
Within  her  narrow  bounds  their  bread  with  tears; 
Ye  felt  the  sore  constraint;  ye,  weeping,  turned 
From  sight  of  your  poor  children,  who  had  learned 
To  wear  too  grave  a  look,  unplayful,  wise, 
Grown  old  and  weary  in  that  brief  sojourn ; 
Would  ye  return,  cage  them  again  ?     They  rise 
E'en  now,  their  wings  will  bear  at  least  to  paradise! 

XVII. 

"England  to  you  a  poorer  refuge  far; 
Have  ye  forgotten  how  ye  were  a  prey 
To  that  proud  hierarchy  ?     They  sought  to  mar 
Not  only  your  poor  homes,  yourselves  to  lay 
In  dungeons  damp,  far  from  the  light  of  day. 
They  sought  the  deathless  soul  foul  to  deprave — 
With  gainful  bait  entice — sought  every  way 
With  fears  to  force  you  your  own  souls  t' enslave  ; 
Ye  strong,  escaped ;  but  what  would  weaker  offspring  save? 


0"'"7-]  PURIT4N.  u 

XVIII. 

"England  's  no  home  to  you;  a  popish  king 
Hath  harrowed  you  from  out  her  goodly  soil ; 
But  still  ye  love  your  native  tongue — dared  bring 
Your  treasures  on  the  Ocean — disembroil 
Yourselves  from  her  disputes,  and  freely  toil 
A  noble  state  in  loyalty  to  found; 
Forget  no  hope,  lest  fear  may  foully  foil 
A  worthy  labor; — and  tho'  cares  abound, 
God's  grace  much  more;  e'en  o'er  this  vast  unknown  Pro 
found. 

XIX. 

"  Nor  dare  ye  once  reproach  my  guidance  here. 
He  who  dares  murmur,  tho'  deep  troubles  press 
In  grievous  burdens  that  he  scarce  can  bear, 
Murmurs  against  his  God.     Never  distress, 
But  He  hath  meted,  sinful  soul  to  bless; 
Guiana  wooed  you  with  her  lavish  gold ; 
Virginius  prayed  you  join  his  host  no  less; 
Mauritius  proud,  rich  gainful  trade  foretold 
About  the  forts  whose  future  greatness  he  extolled. 

XX. 

"I  promised  naught  but  grief  and  poverty  ; 
As  Israel  from  Egypt,  hence  I  came, 
Nor  feared  the  wilderness  beyond  the  sea; 
To  rear  an  altar  to  His  holy  name, 
Nor  brooked  one  follower  zeal  did  not  inflame; 
To  fast,  to  pray,  give  thanks  as  seemed  me  good; 
If  any  now  gainsay,  theirs  be  the  shame  ; 
We  came  to  find  pure  streams  of  heavenly  food, 
To  rear  our  offspring,  first  of  many  a  goodly  brood." 


12  PURITAN.  {Canto  i. 

XXI. 

He  ceased,  then  breathed  a  long  and  fervent  prayer, 
Nor  rose  a  plaint  from  e'en  an  infant  there  ; 
The  helmsman  with  inspired  courage  held 
The  prow  to  West,  the  wind  seemed  shifting  fair, 
The  mariners  loosed;  the  sail    slow  swaying  swelled, 
And  swift  through  heaving  brine  the  bark  compelled. 
It  was  a  fair  and  gallant  sight  the  while, 
From  every  brow  sad  weight  of  care  dispelled — 
There  was  no  sound  of  mirth,  but  many  a  smile 
And  pure  and  calm  thanksgiving  did  the  hoars  beguile. 

XXII. 

Darkness  succeeds  the  brightest  day's  sunshine, 
Tempests  the  calm,  and  nights  and  storms  ensued 
Till  hope  deferred  made  many  a  heart  repine; 
The  knight  in  faith  exalted,  unsubdued 
By  every  ill,  his  soul  with  grace  imbued. 
Three  score  of  days  upon  that  troubled  sea, 
Each  added  morn  no  land,  each  night  they  stood 
Watching  the  sun,  if  haply  there  might  be 
A  shore-line  cross  the  orb, — watching,  how  longingly  ! 

XXIII. 

One,  two,  aye,  three;    each  day  dawned  but  on  waves; 
Behind,  before,  each  way  a  dreary  sight. 
One,  two,  aye,  three;  no  ray  of  sunlight  paves 
The  darkening  sea;   passes  the  pale  twilight, 
No  trace  of  land  appears  ere  falls  the  night; 
The  morn — the  fourth — the  earliest  dawn  on  high 
Paces  a  quick  impatient  path — the  knight — • 
Oft  times  his  searching  gaze  strained  anxiously, 
But  lingering  darkness  doth  his  hope  as  oft  belie. 


Canto  I.-]  PURITAN.  13 

XXIV. 

How  keen  the  northern  blast!  the  spray  blown  high 
Congealing  o'er  his  form  ;  but  still  he  stands 
Spell-bound  in  instant  prayer; — "The  clouds  that  lie 
Dark  on  the  West — tell  me — are  they  not  lands! 
Ye  mariners  behold !  the  view  expands, 
The  lingering  dimness  vanishes. — Oh  God! 
Not  unrewarded  they,  who  Thy  commands 
Obey.      Tho'  heavy  falls  the  chastening  rod, 
We  shall  tread  that  near  land, as  Israel,  Canaan  trod, 

XXV. 

"  Awed  through  the  middest  deep,  at  length  beyond, 
Praising  the  living  God,  the  same  Lord  then, 
To-day,  as  yesterday — ever  in  bond 
With  those  who  love  and  serve  Him.      Godly  men, 
When  did  He  once  forsake  you?  tell  me,  when?" 
They  gather  close  around  their  faithful  guide ; 
Tears,  smiles,  thanksgivings  loud,  unseeking  ken 
What  trials  wait  them  there,  land!   land  descried! 
Hour  of  hope  realized,  elate,  o'erjoyed,  they  ride. 

XXVI. 

"Bear  to  the  South  !  "    The  mandate,  helm  obeyed; 

The  voice  imperious  as  the  power  supreme, 

He,  unforgetful,  tho'  enrapt  they  stayed, 

Gazing  upon  the  wished-for  shore  and  dream 

To  tread  firm  land,  nor  breathe  they  other  theme, 

But  he  beholds  them  shuddering  in  the  blast, 

Keen,  unrelenting,  sweeps  it,  cold  extreme, 

And  seeks,  the  long  peninsula  once  past, 

For  some  safe  haven  where  they  may  find  rest  at  last. 
3 


14  PURITAN.  [Cann  I. 

I 

XXVII. 

But  it  was  vain;  he  could  have  borne  their  grief, 
To  draw  no  nearer  now  that  longed-for  shore, 
But  hope  for  rest  that  way  was  sad  as  brief; 
Dread  shoals  and  breakers  threatened  more  and  more. 
To  wreck  their  shattered  ship,  and  all  her  store; 
The  hope  of  drawing  near  a  friend  grew  faint, 
The  hope,  of  even  life  'mid  perils  sore, 
Lost  when  the  wind,  attending  their  complaint, 
Veers  to  the  South,  forcing  them  back — God's  own  con 
straint. 

XXVIII. 

A  day  and  night  upon  that  rock-bound  coast! 
Another  morning  'round  that  yearned-for  land! 
A  headland  bold,  and  narrow,  for  the  most 
Dense  wooded  to  the  shore — nigh  such  a  strand, 
The  vast  and  furious  Ocean  passed,  doth  stand 
The  knight — brave,  proud,  inspired    to  lead  the  van 
Of  hosts  that  dared  to  follow  his  command, 
And  in  the  light  of  faith  unfold  a  plan 
Conceived  nor  carried  out  by  mortal  man — 
Needs  it  proclaim  this  daring  Hero — PURITAN. 


PURITAN. 


CANTO    THE  SECOND. 


CELEBRATED  DOTAGES. 


I. 

Puritan!     How  much  the  world  hath  writ 
Of  famous  voyages  o'er  Oceans   vast ! 
With  jealous  care  the  ancients  sought  transmit 
E'en  dim  traditions  of  exploits  long  past, 
When  daring  mariners  shrank  back  aghast 
From  fearful  perils  in  the  fair  Levant ; 
Ere  man  conceived  what  mighty  depths  were  massed 
Beyond  his  knowledge.      Care  most  vigilant, 
Has  failed  one  labor  find,  as  thine  significant! 

II. 

But  lest  strange  unbelief  the  truth  may  scorn, 

And  deem  such  hero-worship,weak,  unwise, 

Deeds  of  renown,  that  earliest  adorn 

Th'  historic  page,  or  that  men  doubly  prize 

Where  poets  give  immortal  fame,  arise  ! 

In  order  show  your  valiant ;    tell  them  o'er, 

E'en  fables  of  pelagic  enterprise; 

Nor  shrink  ye  sages,  and  the  task  deplore  ; 

Is  it  not  worthy  to  record  such  deeds  once  more  ? 

(xv) 


1 6  PURITAN.  \_Camall. 

III. 

Bold  Argonautica!  be  yours  the  praise 
Of  earliest  glory  on  the  untried  deep; 
Tho'  trade  of  spicery  in  earlier  days 
Allured  the  prow,  the  fragrant  gain  to  reap 
Far  down  th'  Arabian  sea — perchance  to  creep 
Eurythrean  currents  thro'  for  pearls  and  gold, 
Rich  gains  were  theirs,  the  glory  thou  may'st  keep, 
Oh  princely  Jason!  chief  of  heroes  old  ; 
Patron  of  Argus,  thro'  all  time  how  oft  extolled! 

IV. 

Yet  only  left  he  Thessaly,  to  touch 
The  Isle  of  Lemnos;  thence  to  Mysia  cross, 
Lingering  in  Thrace  to  learn  what  needed  much 
The  dread    Symplegades,  without  a  loss 
Pass  thro' — tho'  wrathfully  they  clash  and  toss, 
And  then  the  Euxine  sea,  vast  as  unknown, 
Sails — labored  oars  compelled  them  far  across 
To  Colchis  come — the  golden  fleece  he  won 
Thro'  wise  Medea's  love.     Such  aid  'twere  well  to  shun. 
V. 

Thence  back  to  Thessaly,  saving  the  two, 
Hylas  and  Hercules,  whom   friendship  stays 
On  Mysia's  shore — again  Alcides  view, 
This  but  a  boyish  deed,  when  he  obeys 
Command  Eurystheus  gave  to  steer  where  graze 
Geryon's  famed  oxen  j   Erytheia's  day 
Dawned  far  to  West — he  dared  the  sunset  rays, 
Seeking  Hesperides,  where  guarded  lay 
The  golden  apples  that  he  sought  to  bear  away. 


Canto  II.]  PURITAN. 

VI. 

In  monumental  grandeur  stands  it  now, 
Unfallen  not  unchanged,    the  riven  pass 
Of  Hercules !  His  labors  famed  avow 
The  starry  heavens,  where  fadeless  glories  glass 
The  deeds  that  earthly  monuments  surpass ; 
Here  pass'd  too,  Menelaiis,  world  renown'd, 
As  spouse  of  Helen,  too  fair  cause,  alas! 
Of  Troy's  sad  fall;  and  this  beyond  the  bound 
Of  sage  Ulysses'  wanderings,  whose  griefs  astound. 

VII. 

./Eneas'  voyage  recall,  who  bravely  bore 
His  sire  Anchises  from  the  wreck  of  Troy, 
To  found  far  o'er  the  seas,  on  presaged  shore, 
Another  state,  to  be  a  pride  and  joy 
Greater  than  that  just  lost — without  alloy 
The  deep  delights  the  poet  gives  the  soul 
Where  e'en  the  ancient  gods  he  dares  employ, 
To  lend  a  lustre  that  exalts  the  whole, 
That  scarce  Ulysses'  tale  the  ages  more  extol. 

VIII. 

But  leave  we  song  and  fable,  for  we  find 
Not  here,  one  purpose  worthy  place  beside 
The  high,  soul-daring,  heaven-exalted  mind 
Of  this  our  hero — glory,  human  pride, 
Nor  knowledge,  much  less  love  and  faith  sore  tried ! 
But  seek  we  now  the  old  historic  tomes 
If  haply  there  the  truth  may  best  abide, 
Seleucus,  Alexander  Magnus  roams, 
Patrocles — Onesecritus,  none  worthy  comes. 


1 8  PURITAN.  {Cant,  II. 

IX. 

And  leave  we  these  few  annals  of  renown; 
For  on  that  bright  and  placid  inland  sea 
There  can  no  daring  deed  be  truly  shown 
Worthy  compare  with  Ocean's  jeopardy. 
There  Asia  Minor,  Greece,  and  Italy, 
Face  Egypt,  Cyrenecia,  Carthage  famed 
And  Spain,  tho'  far  from  Palestine  it  be, 
The  later  mariners  no  glory  claimed, 
Save  where  the  boundless  seas  their  fearless  zeal  inflamed. 

X. 

'Tis  told  that  Menelaiis  was  the  first 
Who  passed  the  cape  Speranza,  till  he  came 
To  Indies'  shores:  next  Solomon  athirst 
For  golden  treasures, mighty  ships  did  frame 
To  pass  the  straits  of  Mecca — riches,  fame, 
Three  years  of  absence  from  the  East,  they  brought: 
The  worthy  deed  lends  lustre  to  his  name  ; 
Then  Neco,  Egypt's  king,  in  wisdom  sought 
To  join  the  Red  Sea  and  the  Nile,  and  him  bethought, 

XI. 

Phrenecians  wise  to  send  from  Mecca  down 
To  dread  Speranza,  thence  to  Hercules, 
And  thence  to  Egypt;  won  they  great  renown 
But  nothing  found  their  sovereign's  hopes  to  please. 
And  these  same  annals  tell  a  favoring  breeze 
Bore  Carthaginian  merchants  on  and  on 
Ever  to  westward,  thro'  tempestuous  seas, 
'Till  far  as  our  Antilles  they  had  gone, 
Six  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era's  dawn. 


canto  ii.-]  PURITAN.  19 

XII. 

When  Roman  power  had  reached  the  far  off  coast 
Of  famed  Britannia,  thro'  the  Ocean  sea, 
It  was  the  mighty  Empire's  proudest  boast, 
And  marks  the  time  her  eagle  gloriously 
Swept  to  the  zenith,  and  there  seemed  to  be 
E'en  to  the  farthest  seeing,  like  a  star 
Eternally  transfixed;   laboriously 
His  pinions  all  the  while  unequal  are 
To  stay  his  sudden  downfall;  falls  he  fearful  far! 

XIII. 

Then  came  the  time  when  all  those  cultured  shores, 
Greece,  Italy,  Gaul,  Spain,  and  Africa, 
Were  wild  with  tumults — Vandals,  Huns,  Goths,  Moors, 
Sweeping  in  counter  currents;  nations  saw 
Barbaric  hordes  descend,  their  glories  draw 
Swiftly  and  hopeless  to  untimely  end. 
Wide-spreading  carnage,  plundering  might  sole  law; 
No  more  the  richly  laden  fleets  may  wend, 
No  more  romantic  rivals  on  the  seas  contend. 

XIV. 

In  grief  we  turn  away,  and  let  the  pall 
Of  silence  o'er  such  desolation  fall; 
Barbarian  ravages  served  well  to  hide 
Worse  than  Barbarian  crimes — less  tragical 
More  fatal  ills  destroyed  that  vaunting  pride; 
As  came  the  tempted  fierce  barbarian  tide 
Rose  grim  despair,  the  stern  extreme  resource 
Of  fallen  greatness — glory  deified 
After  this  fatal  lesson! — mark  its  course 
The  mighty  Roman  Empire  in  the  dust  a  corse, 


20  PURITAN.  icaxul 

xv. 

It,  like  the  fabled  Phcenix,  sprang  to  life; 
From  cradling  sepulchre,  arose  unseen, 
But  unlike  that  fond  wonder,  from  fell  strife 
Bore  not  the  parent  nest — selfish  we  ween 
Hath  human  glory  from  the  earliest  been — 
Full  plumed  and  proud  emerged  it  in  the  West, 
Where  armoured  heroes  gathering  were  seen; 
As  brilliant  birds  the  stranger  phoenix  press'd, 
So  there  King  Arthur  and  his  Knights,  glory  attest. 

XVI. 

Ancient  renowned,  chivalrous  Arthur!  thou, 
Thou  wert  the  first  that  dared  the  northern  blast 
For  conquest,  as  thy  knights  impelled  the  prow, 
(Heroic  as  the  Argo  bore  time  past) 
From  Celtic  isle  to  North,  until  thou  wast 
In  sight  of  Hecla's  flames;  that  island  bound 
To  faithful  homage,  far  off  Russe  at  last, 
The  Norse  and  Flanders  thine,  "chambers  first  found 
To  Brittain  " — bold  exploit  of  the  famous  Table  Round. 

XVII. 

Wild  but  heav'n-blest  Crusades  new  life  had  giv'n 
To  listless  nations;  men  went  to  and  fro 
Doing  great  deeds  of  valor — they  had  striv'n 
On  land  and  sea,  yearning  yet  more  to  know 
Of  distant  parts;  the  human  currents  flow 
Restless,  chivalrous,  thro'  surrounding  seas, 
And  neighboring  countries  felt  unwonted  glow 
Of  new  regard  and  tender  sympathies, 
Too  soon,  alas!  disturbed  by  glory's  votaries. 


canto  n.-\  PURITJN.  21 

XVIII. 

But  love,  a  motive  that  doth  seldom  lead 
To  unknown  lands,  because  the  fragile  fair 
Await  in  ease  until  the  daring  speed 
In  quest  of  glory,  and  if  joys  are  there, 
Their  tender  loves  they  later  thither  bear — 
Yet  once  the  fatal  cause,  for  unknown  shores 
Received  two  lovers  in  their  keen  despair. 
Too  tardy  refuge — tho'  there  lavish  stores 
Of  beauties  bloom — one  fading  beauty  he  deplores. 

XIX. 

She  died — his  love,  his  life;  and  unto  him 
Naught  in  the  skies  above,  or  seas  around, 
Or  riches  of  that  virgin  isle,  but  dim, 
More  deathful  than  the  narrow  precious  mound 
That  all  the  hopes  of  his  sad  soul  embound; 
Oh  joy!  the  island's  hero  slept  as  well; 
In  stormless  haven,    love  with  joy  was  crowned! 
Sad  followers   mourned  in  paradise  to  dwell ; 
They  framed  a  float,  o'erjoyed  escaped  this  tale  to  tell. 

XX. 

Near  Lusitania  heard  it  not  in  vain. 
Don  Henry  yearned  exalt  his  native  land. 
His  wise  unrivalled  zeal  gave  her  the  main, 
Adown  dark  Afric's  shores;  his  sails  expand, 
Until  the  fiery  rays  naught  can  withstand. 
Columbus  sought  the  Lusian  monarch  then, 
His  mighty  project  told  at  his  command. 
The  East  to  East,  sole  hope  of  wisest  men; 
Faith  in  the  great  unseen,  when  will  ye  conquer,  when? 


22  PURITAN.  [c™//. 

XXI. 

To  sail  to  West  o'er  Ocean  was  a  scheme 
Consigned  to  scorn  in  ignominious  pride. 
Then  turned  the  slighted  hero — his  fond  dream 
Never  dispelled,  tho'  all  the  world  deride, 
Again  t'  explain  tho'  Spain  as  well  denied; 
The  Queen, 'more  wise,  his  earnest  suit  attends; 
Palos — vast  Ocean — Western  land  descried! 
Oh  mighty  exploit!  all  the  past  it  shends, 
And  none  save  Puritan's,  such  vast  results  portends, 

XXII. 

De  Gama  yearned  repair  the  Lusian  loss 
Of  Western  Empire,  and  with  constant  zeal 
Bore  on  and  on  the  burning  line  across — 
The  shores  of  Afric  past,  what  ills  reveal! 
The  blazing  flash!   the  wracking  thunder's  peal! 
Where  mighty  waves  in  counter  currents  sweep — 
Amid  such  perils  pulsing  veins  congeal, 
To  pass  where  "Spirit  of  the  Cape"  would  keep 
Man  from  all  knowledge  of  that  wild  and  secret  deep. 

XXIII. 

But  tho'  he  gave  the  coveted,  famed  East, 
With  all  its  kings  and  kingdoms  scarcely  seen 
To  his  far  monarch,  year  by  year  decreased 
That  empire's  fame — for  fell  ambition  keen, 
Too  ravishing  hath  in  all  ages  been. 
Save  freights  of  gold  and  purple,  spices  rare, 
Rich  freights  men  prize  of  luxuries  terrene, 
And  that  it  roused  the  daring  everywhere, 
And  of  it  Camoens  wrote,  the  world  the  deed  might  spare. 


Canto  II.}  PUR1T4N.  23 

XXIV. 

While  England  grieves  Columbus,  Cabot  steers 
Straight  for  the  West;  St.  George  floats  proudly  there 
As  he  the  shores,  his  "  Prima  vista"  nears; 
It  needs  but  see  the  fruitful  coast  each  where, 
Down  from  the  north  with  spreading  sails  to  bear, 
Where  keenest  glimpse  commands  the  dirn  coast  line, 
All,  all  with  zeal  for  England  they  declare, 
The  title  for  the  continent  consign; 
A  strange  and  unreal  right  that  nations  must  define. 

XXV. 

France,  tardier  than  her  compeers,  felt  a  pang 
That  none  her  Fleur-de-lis  transplanted,  where 
The  world  in  praise  of  wealth  and  glory  rang; 
Then  in  her  service  Verrazanni  dare 
Her  arms  across  the  middest  Ocean  bear, 
To  plant  them  on  that  coast  from  South  to  North 
In  spacious  harbors;  he,  the  earliest  there — 
But  none  survive,  nor  any  blooms  put  forth, 
Save  where  the  care  of  Cartier  attends  their  growth. 

XXVI. 

Fair  Italy!  thy  sons  for  others  guide 
The  venturous  prow,  in  far  and  famous  Seas, 
Past  lands  of  untold  beauty,  constant  glide; 
Yet  not  one   rood  of  all  the  loveliest  leas 
Where  soft  waves  fall,  no  island  galaxies, 
No  spot  of  all  the  New  Worlds  found,  give  thee; 
Nor  bring  e'en  treasures  back  thy  pride  to  please  ; 
And  thou  must  see  Rome's  single  legacy, 
The  fervor  of  thy  sons,  enhance  thy  jeopardy ! 


24  PURITAN.  O"'0  "• 

XXVII. 

And  yet  how  beautiful !    Nature  and  Art 
Bedeck  thy  form  with  lavish  loveliness, 
As  if  to  soothe  the  pangs  thy  broken  heart 
Feels,  that  thy  sons  degenerate  confess 
No  filial  ardor  in  thy  deep  distress; 
As  mourn'd  Penelope  her  mighty  spouse 
When  suitors  arrogant  for  favors  press, 
So  thou;  yet  she  had  her  Telemachus; 
Wasting  thy  people's  treasures,  kings  carouse ; 
When  will  Ulysses  come  to  frustrate  their  false  vows? 

XXVIII. 

But  haste  we  to  recount  a  few,  the  best 
Of  Ocean's  heroes; — bold  Magellan  sought 
To  compass  this  great  Earth  ;  he  onward  pressed 
Thro'   his  famed  fret,  in  middest  ocean  brought 
To  untimely  end,  by  savage  imps  untaught. 
Successful  Cano,  bearing  westwardly 
That  unsought  glory  through  great  suffering  found; 
His  monarch  proud  that  all  the  world  might  see, 
Wrote  "Primus  omnium  circumdedisti  me" 

XXIX. 

Upon  his  shield;  and  set  the  globe  beneath; 
A  vaunting  emblem,  highest  boast  of  fame. 
Now  scores  of  mariners  their  deeds  bequeath 
Succeeding  ages — yet  from  us  scarce  claim 
Tho'  more  deserving — e'en  a  passing  name. 
Cabral — Vespucius — Cortereal — Pinzon 
Frobisher — Davis — Chancellor  o'ercame 
The  frozen  seas,  while  to  the  South  had  gone 
Drake,  and  those  bold  compeers  we  blush  to  dwell  upon. 


Cant*  //.]  PURITAN. 

XXX. 

In  weariness  we  pause;  once  more  attest 
The  Knight  supreme;   yet  know  Virginias  rare 
Of  England's  former  marine  heroes  best, 
And  tho'  so  worthy  fame,  can  he  compare 
With  him  we  vaunt?  forget  not,  pride  did  share 
Each  noblest  purpose;  glory  the  high  prize 
For  which  the  stormy  deep  he  erst  did  dare, 
Later  for  human  rights,  did  death  despise — 
Daring  alone — for  earth  and  earthly  things  was  wise. 

XXXI. 

But  Puritan  felt  no  chivalrous  pride; 
No  hope  of  conquest,  no  desire  of  gain; 
He  sought  to  worship  God — and  to  abide 
His  will  on  earth,  in  Heaven  a  rest  attain. 
He  trusted  Him  he  served,  in  faith  was  fain 
All  that  he  prized,  to  launch  on  stormiest  main. 
Tho'  no  Shekinah  led  the  unknown  way, 
Faith  unas.sisted  mourns  not,  death,  nor  pain, 
Nor  any  labor;  he  but  yearns  to  pray — 
Past  fervent  youth,   young  manhood's  hardier  day, 
In  Liberty  and  peace,  where  none  can  him  gainsay. 


PURITAN. 


CANTO   THE   THIRD. 


THE  LANDING. 


I. 

T  is  indeed  a  wilderness ; — the  shore, 

The  sea,  hushed,  deep,  primeval  solitudes; 
The  winter  winds  o'er  wastes  of  waters  roar, 
Grey  shifting  clouds  portend  the  fiercer  moods 
Of  gathering  storms — the  low  dark  circling  woods 
Of  sombre  cedars,  and  of  shrunken  pines, 
With  sapless  boles,  mark  frigid  latitudes; 
So  chill  and  silent,  that  the  darksome  lines 
Of  great  leviathans,  he  o'er  the  waves  defines. 

II. 

And  in  the  bay's  deep  sheltered  close  recess, 

The  myriad  fowls  have  found  secure  retreat; 

Sole  animated  objects,  to  possess 

Vast  silent  wilds  of  nature;  region  meet 

The  purposes  of  Puritan  ;  replete 

With  deepest  sorrow,  he  mourns  not  the  pain; 

A  thousand  leagues  from  friends,  from  foes  deceit 

As  well  dissevered,  from  the  love  of  gain, 

The  churchman's  pride,  and  hated  papacy's  foul  chain. 

(xxvii) 


28  PURITAN.  tc*««  in. 

in. 

Thus  finds  he  here,  as  every  faithful  breast, 
Somewhat  for  deep  thanksgiving  e'en  amid 
Perplexity  and  car£;  for  those  distressed, 
The  young  and  fragile;  yet  the  shores  forbid — 
Within  their  friendly  arms    securely  hid — 
The  Ocean's  storms  disturb  their  welcome  rest. 
A  thousand  ships  might  float  of  dangers  rid, 
Within  the  great  round  bay,  and  some  attest 
Great  shoals  of  fishes  it  at  certain  times  possessed 

IV. 

The  growth  of  trees,  e'en  to  the  waters,  told 
The  shore  was  rich  and  fruitful,  had  it  been 
In  any  moon  save  when  November  cold 
Permitted  not  prepare  for  winter  keen ; 
Three  long,  long  months  of  dreary    cold,  between 
Those  damp  dark  days,  and  earliest  cheer  of  Spring  ; 
Not  e'en  a  hut  his  tenderest  pledge  to  screen 
From  snows  and  icy  storms,  tho'  they  shall  fling 
The  fiercest  shafts  upon  them,  that  such  climates  bring. 

V. 

He  saw  it  all — aroused  his  soul's  deep  power 
Over  impending  perils,  and  weak  fears; 
With  zeal  heroic  to  improve  the  hour; 
"Free  men,  I  charge  you,  hear!"  and  quick  appears 
Each  faithful  follower  that  his  will  reveres; 
"Freemen  of  England,  know  I  led  you  here 
To  make  you  doubly  free — ye  all  are  peers; 
From  despot's  power  ye  fled,  your  purpose  dear, 
All  power  here  is  yours,  each  marks  his  own  career. 


nta  in.-]  PURITAN. 


29 


VI. 

"The  lands  before  you  choose,  plant  where  you  will, 
For  me  and  mine  it  is  enough  to  aid 
Your  labors,  and  if  offspring  mine  instill 
Base  counsels  by  usurping  passion  swayed, 
Be  he  accursed,  his  manhood's  strength  decayed; 
Here  is  set  forth  my  purpose  and  intent; 
Hark   ye   the  scroll — is  it  in  aught  gainsaid? 
Then  let  it  be  a  solemn  covenant 
That  will  the  most  discordant  elements  cement. 

VII. 

"  Let  every  member  of  this  compact  feel, 
His  duty  singly  as  before  his  God; 
Let  each  to  each  be  bound,  the  common  weal 
First  care  of  all,  and  charge  them  sway  the  rod 
The  best  and  wisest,  they  who  zealous  plod 
Most  for  the  common  good;  and  mark  ye  well, 
Give  not  nor  take  offense;  ye  who  have  trod 
Rough  ways  together,  strive  in  peace  to  dwell; 
Be  wise,  and  ye  shall  rear  a  freeman's  citadel. 

VIII. 

"Ye  are  no  pampered  lordlings,  to  deplore 
Lost  ease;  ye  from  the  earliest  learned  to  bear 
Your  own  and  others'  burdens;   tho'  yon  shore 
Is  icy,bleak,  ye  can  all  needs  repair, 
Inured  to  labor,  now  no  labor  spare ; 
And  what  the  coast  denies  ye  can  produce 
By  corresponding  zeal,  and  toil  and  care; 
What  is  denied  has  providential  use 
To  rouse  your  sleeping  powers  and  energy  infuse. 


30  PURITAN.  ICant,  III. 

IX. 

"Know,  human  wills,  if  unrestrained,  will  bring 
Their  own  best  purposes  to  ill  fruition; 
Then  in  calm  moments  let  wise  measures  spring 
To  bear  such  stable  fruits,  that  no  transition 
Of  stormy  passions,  no  turmoiled  condition 
Can  break  the  bonds  of  constituted  laws; 
There  ever  will  be  many  whose  ambition 
'Twill  be  to  stand  for  wise  and  righteous  cause; 
He  who  would  disannul,  dishonored  let  him  pause! 

X. 

"He  who  hath  made  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth, 
The  springs,  the  rivers,  seas,  all  watery  deeps, 
Whose  providence  forbids  one  moment's  dearth 
Of  goodly  moisture,  He  earth  verdant  keeps, 
That  man  in  season,  fitting  nurture  reaps ; 
May  He  so  guard  and  guide  you  in  your  ways, 
With  spirit  and  with  power,  o'er  stormiest  steeps 
And  tempting  meads,  your  pilgrim  hearts  to  raise 
Ever  to  Heaven,your  goal,  your  rest;    His  be  the  praise." 

XI. 

Now  yearned  he  tread  the  near  encircling  shore, 
The  ship    lay  deep  and  tranquil,  but  the  sands 
Forbade  approach  too  near;  one  effort  more, 
Deep  wading  to  the  middle,  and  he  stands 
Sole  lord  of  all  those  wild  uncultured  lands. 
He  marks  the  sandy  hillocks,  like  the  downs 
Of  Holland;  and  his  grateful  heart  expands, 
When  he  beneath  the  se-eming  barren  mounds, 
Finds  rich,  deep,  hopeful  soil  to  wisely  cultured  grounds. 


Canto    ///.]  PURITAN.  31 

XII. 

Onward  he  presses,  and  too  soon  beholds 
The  wide,  wide  Ocean ;  this  a  narrow  tongue 
Of  land  ;  from  that  low  eminence  unfolds 
A  double  prospect  of  wild  waves,  among 
These  depths,  this  friendly  arm  hath  seeming  flung 
Its  verdant  length  far  thro'  the  sea,  to  form 
A  refuge  for  the  knight,  whose  heart  was  wrung 
By  Ocean's  wrath,  in  fleeing  earthly  storm ; 
How  long  since  nature  'gan  that  tender  task  perform! 

XIII. 

The  trees  grew  disencumbered,  saving  where 
The  rope-like  vines  clung  pendant  from  on  high; 
The  oak,  the  ash,  the  gainful  saffras  there, 
The  birch,  and  walnut,  deep  green  hollies  vie 
With  pines  and  cedars,  that  refreshingly 
Brighten  the  wintry  prospect;  draws  the  day 
Darkly,  but  hopeful  to  its  close  ;   supply 
Of  fragrant  juniper  he  bears  away; 
To-morrow  their  first  Sabbath  dawns  to  rest  and  pray. 

XIV. 

How  many  times  the  earth  had  turned  that  bay 
Toward  the  sun, — perfecting  year  by  year 
The  circumjacent  shores.      Was  this  the  day? 
Did  all  that  long  progression  center  here, — 
Doth  Nature  pause  the  spirit  to  revere  ? 
At  midnight  hour  the  wind  had  ceased  to  blow; 
The  earth  grew  silent  as  the  hemisphere 
Of  stars  above  it;  e'en  the  water's  flow 
Was  still'd;  the  mirror'd  stars  were  perfect  stars  below. 


32  PURITAN.  [&««  "/ 

XV. 

If  Nature  waken'd  when  the  sunlight  shone, 
Her  solemn  reverence  hushed  every  sound; 
The  silent  rays  pervade  the  air  alone; 
No  cloud  strayed  o'er  the  blue  expanse  that  bound 
The  hallow'd  bay  and  all  the  shores  around; 
No  wild  bird  spread  its  wings  to  stir  the  air, 
Vast  flocks  in  secret  covert  on  the  ground, 
Like  dry,  wind-gathered  leaves;   the  fishes  there, 
As  still,  as  deep,  deep  down,  the  countless  pebbles  were. 

XVI. 

What  perfect  rest  it  was;  the  past  was  past; 
The  future  lay  beyond  the  night  to  come  ; 
First  Sabbath — of  a  lengthening  chain  to  last 
Long  as  the  nation's  welfare, — linking  fast 
The  souls  of  men, — too  prone  from  faith  to  roam — 
To  an  eternal,  spiritual  home. 
The  spirit  seemed  to  brood  upon  the  place  : 
The  calm  of  trustful  love,  and  all  the  sum 
Of  promised  blessings  swelled  each  soul  with  grace; 
Pure  new-born  hopes,  and  high  resolves  all  fears  efface. 

XVII. 

The  Sabbath  pass'd,  next  morn  dawned  on  a  scene 
Of  earnest  energy,  propitious  sign 
Of  sure  success,  the  shallop  lay  between; 
A  score  of  sturdy  men,  they  form  the  line, 
And  low  she  settles  on  the  shallow  brine. 
The  strong,  the  weak  and  weary  bear  ashore, 
Oh  blest  relief!    to  those  close  ships  confine; 
Tho*  wet,  and  cold,  and  weary,  none  deplore  ; 
The  dreadful  ocean  passed,  they  tread  firm  land  once  more! 


c*»to  ///.]  PURITAN.  33 

XVIII. 

But  Puritan,  impatient  all  delays, 
Waits  not  the  injured  shallop  to  repair ; 
In  weight  of  armor  clad,  he  sought  far  ways 
For  some  fair  spot  where  they  might  best  prepare 
For  coming  winter — this  his  earliest  care; 
It  needs  not  tell  what  painful  paths  he  trod, 
Seeking  the  swift  and  treach'rous  natives  there, 
Up  rugged  hills,  thro'  tangled  vales  to  plod, 
With  painful  step  and  slow,  the  wet  half  frozen  sod. 

XIX. 

His  armor  rent  and  tarnished,  scant  repose 
He  found,  where  in  some  thicket  he  was  fain 
Kindle  the  tardy  blaze,  that  struggling  rose 
Thro'  frosts  and  dampness;   but  at  last  to  gain 
Sight  of  a  haunt  that  had  been,  and  much  grain, 
Yellow  and  precious  as  pure  sands  of  gold, 
Where  it  had   been  deep  buried  from  the  rain, 
By  late  fled  natives,  was  a  joy  untold — 
O'er  flesh  and  fowl  and  living  springs, he  did  behold. 

XX. 

The  wondrous  river,  with  heap'd  sands  between, 
Where  fairy-like  canoes  lay  on  the  shore, 
He  reached  at  length;   had  there  his  shallop  been 
He  might  with  ease  its  farthest  bounds  explore; 
But  he  must  weary  trace  his  footsteps  o'er, 
Across  deep  valleys  reach  the  fair  fresh  lake, 
Pass  bleak,  broad  highlands,  thro'  deep  woods  once  more, 
Dense,  wild,  and  pathless,  he  did  painful  make 
His  way  to  where  o'er  path  of  sand  the  slow  waves  break. 


34  PURITAN.  [£""*  ///. 

XXI. 

When  far  they  heard  his  arms  resounding  tell 
The  wonted  signal,  they  swift  bore  across 
The  stormy  bay,  strong  oars  the  bark  impel, 
Tho'  rains  fall  fast,  and  waves  them  wildly  toss, 
Sole  thought  to  reach  the  knight  their  souls  engross; 
Welcome  as  weary  reached  the  cape  at  last, 
He  safe  restored,  they  feared  no  sorer  loss; 
Cheering  their  hearts,  he  told  of  lands  late  pass'd, 
Of  wealth  of  corn,  of  fields  but  needing  seed  to  cast 

XXII. 

Into  the  cultured  ground.     All  ready  now, 
The  shallop  fairly  manned,  he  would  them  lead 
That  they  might  view  the  land;  how  rudely  blow 
The  boreal  blasts!  their  only  anchor  freed, 
The  winds  and  waves  forbid  so  rash  a  deed ! 
They  seek  the  nearest  harbor,  there  abide 
Safely  the  sweeping  storm,  but  dire  the  seed 
Of  fatal  ills  those  snows  and  ices  breed; 
Another  day  more  calm  they  onward  ride, 
To  where  dark  branching  streams  the  heaped  up  sands  divide. 

XXIII. 

Some  led  he  inland,  while  the  shallop  lay 
Along  the  shore;  but  soon  they  wearied  there; 
The  hills  were  steep,  the  valleys  deep  each  way 
Thro'  heavy  snow,  slow  wading  everywhere, 
Till  he  to  urge  their  course  did  kind  forbear; 
Beneath  low  pines  reposing,  chill  the  night, 
The  earliest  morn  they  northwardly  repair, 
To  seek  the  spot  where  erst  had  been  the  knight, 
His  promised  stores  of  grain  their  anxious  souls  delight. 


\canto  in.  PURITAN.  35 

XXIV. 

For  now  they  had  enough,  new  fields  to  plant, 
Intending  to  restore  its  worth  again 
In  various  trinkets,  which  the  natives  want. 
Thankful  their  faithful  searchings  were  not  vain, 
Beneath  the  frozen  soil,  that  they  were  fain 
With  their  good  swords  to  hew;  now  some  forsake 
The  knight,  so  worn  and  weary,  would  constrain 
Him  to  return.     He  bids  them  straightway  take 
Their  precious  freight,  without  him  their  first  harbor  make. 

XXV. 

Graves!  Graves!  how  many  graves  lay  on  the  coast; 
Most  fair  and  kindly  furnished,  as  if  those 
Crumbling  to  dust,  the  low  or  high,  might  boast 
The  power  to  use  the  arms  or  wares  they  chose 
When  roused  up  from  that  deep  profound  repose; 
And  not  the  dark  dread  savage  dead  alone, 
His  searchings  well  known  instruments  expose, 
The  fair  light  locks  of  kindred  peoples  shown 
Amid  spoiled  trinkets,  dust,  decay,  and  mouldering  bone. 

XXVI. 

As  everywhere,  were  life  and  death  anear: 
Here  native  huts,  or  rather  bowers,  meet 
More  gentle  natures — tender  saplings  rear, 
And  at  the  middle  bent  with  art  discreet, 
In  order  ranged,  secure  and  warm  and  neat 
By  double  hangings  of  well  woven  mats, 
Rude  trenches  there,  where  seethe  they  savage  meat, 
With  earthen  vessels,  divers  wooden  vats 
And  store  of  cunning  baskets,  and  unfinished  plaits. 


36  PURITAN.  [Ca,;ro  in. 

XXVII. 

Nor  lacking  ornaments:   the  great  stag  horns 
Fastened  conspicuous,  with  eagle's  claws, 
And  hoof  of  deer,  where  silken  grass  adorns 
The  walls — parched  acorns,  fishes  fit  for  maws 
Of  such  wild  imps — with  much  that  sadly  draws 
Pained  thoughts  of  perils;  rusted,  broken  things 
From  wrecks,  or  murdered  wanderers'  stores,  give  cause 
For  cautious  watchings;  far  off  echoings 
Announce  the  shallop,  quickly  to  the  shore  he  springs. 

XXVIII. 

How  grieved  was  Puritan!  for  well  he  knew 
No  proper  site  was  found ;  day  after  day 
Was  passing,  cold  and  colder  winter  grew; 
Now  night  and  coming  storms  brooked  no  delay; 
The  ready  wind,  transported  o'er  the  bay, 
Bearing  to  their  first  landing  at  the  cape — 
His  followers  would  return  the  self-same  way, 
To  settle  there,  from  farther  pains  escape; 
But  Puritan  was  still  intent  new  course  to  shape. 

XXIX. 

That  harbor  true  was  good,  fields  ready  cleared, 
And  store  of  whales,  and  site  somewhat  secure, 
And  tho'  the  coming  winter's  storms  he  feared, 
When  they  must  dig  and  build,  the  while  endure 
Ice,  snows,  and  biting  winds,  and  sadly  sure, 
More  scant  provisions  must  them  ill  sustain; 
But  here  low  waters  were  e'en  now  impure, 
Brought  far  up  rugged  hills,  with  sorry  pain; 
Might  there  not  lie  anear  some  fair  well  watered  plain? 


Cantt  III.}  PURITAN. 

XXX. 

One  told  of  far  Angoam,  one  had  been 
Upon  these  shores  before,  and  knew  a  place 
Where  coursed  a  noble  river,  headlands  green, 
Enclosing  Ocean's  'waves,  a  goodly  space; 
He  straight  advised  them  once  more  dangers  face, 
And  all  the  shore  with  stern  resolve  retrace. 
The  hardiest,  man  the  shallop,  tho'  the  cold 
Congealed  their  pulsings  in  its  hard  embrace  ; 
He  guides  the  prow,  beyond  the  sands  they  hold, 
Tho'  mail  of  ice  like  steel  their  stiffened  limbs  enfold. 

XXXI. 

Nigh  half  a  score  of  leagues,  nor  wished  for  sight 
Along  the  shore,  of  harboring  bay  or  creek; 
At  length  a  cove  he  sees;   but  for  the  night 
Stays  not — more  stirring  ventures  he  doth  seek, 
Intent  with  yonder  savage  troop  to  speak. 
They  mark  him  not,  sore  laboring  to  secure 
Some  what  unweeted,  yet  how  timid,  weak — 
Seeing  the  knight  afar,  some  covert  sure 
They  find  in  forest  shade,  or  whelming  hosts  procure. 

XXXII. 

Despite  the  shallows  he  attains  the  land. 
The  morrow  some  to  guard  the  craft  remain, 
The  rest  he  leads  t'  explore  on  either  hand, 
The  narrow  bay,  yet  seeks  he  far  in  vain, 
A  goodly  site  or  savage  haunt  to  gain. 
All  is  deserted,  and  the  great  black  bulks 
Of  stranded  grampus',  dead  along  the  main, 
Make  yet  more  drear  the  prospect,  like  the  hulks 
Of  broken  vessels — far  the  treacherous  savage  skulks. 
6 


37 


38  PURITAN.  \ca-,:,in 

XXXIII. 

As  sank  the  sun,  he  turned  from  ill  reward 
Of  empty  huts  and  cumbering  graves,  to  find 
The  expected  shallop;   but  the  sands  retard 
Its  coming,  and  with  undiscouraged  mind, 
So  late  for  that  hard  toil  sore  disinclined, 
They  fell  the  damp  and  frozen  boles  to  warm 
Their  stiffened  limbs,  but  scarcely  well  reclined, 
The  midnight  stillness  startling,  cries  to  arm, 
Broke   through  the  dismal  darkness  with  intense  alarm. 

XXXIV. 

The  blinding  redness  of  the  flickering  flame, 
Made  doubly  dark  the  deep  encircling  wood. 
He,  watching,  passed  the  danger;  dawning  came, 
Their  prayer  forgotten  never — first  best  good — 
In  the  dark  twilight,  some  too  listless  stood, 
While  others  neared  the  shallop — as  the  cry 
Of  the  wild  natives,  in  their  fiercest  mood, 
Broke  on  his  ear  ;    his  helmet  clasped — his  eye 
Ranges  the  copse,  and  marks  the  unsparing  foe  too  nigh. 

XXXV. 

His  goodly  armor  thwarts  their  careful  aim; 
The  switt  shafts  fly  from  out  the  screening  trees; 
Assurance  of  the  shallop's  safety  came 
To  cheer  his  heart;  his  hardy  followers  seize 
The  blazing  match,  and  mark  his  enemies, 
Till,  as  the  darkness  vanished,  vanished  they; 
Not  one  there  wounded,  tho'  thick  strown  he  sees 
Their  fallen  arrows,  dread  intent  to  slay, 
With  points  of  brass  and  bone  and  eagles'  claws  alway. 


39 


to  ///.]  PURITAN. 

XXXVI. 

Time  presses,  once  again  upon  his  way, 
He  guides  along  the  coast.     Two  score  of  miles, 
He  onward  bears  for  harboring  stream  or  bay, 
Tho'  chilly  rainings  drench,  and  other  whiles 
The  blinding  snow  the  craft  in  ridges  piles. 
And  now  the  rising  wind  portends  worse  ills; 
The  waves  break  rudely,  and  no  hope  beguiles 
Of  welcome  harbor,  but  with  stubborn  will 
He  holds  the  helm,  his  earnest  purpose  to  fulfill, 

XXXVII. 

Strongly  he  holds  it,  but  the  waves  more  strong 
Snap  it  asunder;   then  brave  ready  arms 
Seize  the  firm  oars,  and  sweep  the  bark  along. 
Higher  and  higher  rise  the  waves,  sore  harms 
Them  threat,  the  coming  night  awakes  alarms; 
The  anxious  mariners  quickly  loose  the  sail, 
The  favoring  winds  may  bear  beyond  the  storms; 
It  swells — they  fly  a  moment  en  the  gale— 
The  mast  bends  creaking  in  the  wind's  wild  wail — 
Then  like  a  reed  in  sunder  riv'n,  aye!   stout  hearts  qu-iil. 

XXXVIII. 

The  shallop  labored  deep,  but  bore  along 
Upon  the  raging  flood;   had  human  aid 
Prevailed,  she  had  been  lost  dread  shoals  among; 
Safely  swift  course  thro'  fearful  dangers  made, 
Within  the  harbour  periled  coursing  stayed; 
Gone  helm  and  sail  and  mast — to  Him  alone, 
The  God  of  Mercy,  whom  the  knight  obeyed, 
Be  deep  thanksgiving  that  the  craft  was  thrown 
Mid  rocks  and  darkness  on  the  sands  of  shores  unknown. 


40  PURITAN.  [&•<"  in- 

XXXIX. 

All  thro'  that  rainy  night,  tho'  weary  worn, 
They  fearful  of  the  treacherous  natives,  keep 
An  anxious  watch;  untrusting  fears  are  born 
Of  human  weakness;   Faith  had  given  sweet  sleep, 
But  mid  perplexing  ills,  thus  pressing  deep 
How  soon  the  heart  forgets  the  strength  it  needs! 
The  morn  disclosed  an  island — circling  sweep 
Protecting  waves  on  every  side.      He  speeds 
It  o'er;  all  tenantless  the  woods  and  narrow  meads. 

XL. 

Secure  from  savage  spying,  't  was  a  rest 
Welcome  as  needed,  and  the  livelong  day 
They  seek  the  bark  of  snow  and  ice  divest, 
Their  chief's  worn  tarnished  armor  bear  away 
To  dry  and  burnish;  tho'  its  clasps  display 
No  bands  of  shining  metals,  't  was  a  task 
Needed  and  grateful.      Here  they  tranquil  lay 
The  Sabbath,  worship,  and  God's  blessing  ask, 
Tho'  dark  the  days,  in  sunlight  of  his  love  can  bask. 

XLI. 

Ever  in  holy  rest  the  Sabbath  spent, 
Each  morrow  much  refreshed,  some  noted  deeds 
Betokened  strength  enhanced — inspired  intent. 
The  harbor  fit  for  shipping;  straight  he  leads 
To  land.     Oh  !  may  he  find  the  hav'en  he  needs. 
The  shallop  nears  the  extending  point  of  rocks, 
About  the  cliff  more  warily  proceeds, 
He  springs  a-shore ;  earth's  crust  has  yielded  blocks 
For  firm,unfalt'ring  footing,  spite  the  world's  rude  shocks, 


Canto  III.]  PURITAN.  41 

XLII.  , 

How  yearns  man  mark  the  swift  events  of  time 
In  matter  most  enduring,  that  he  deems 
Changeless,  imperishable,  in  each  clime! 
The  fond  and  sad  device  befitting  seems 
His  fleeting  life,  unreal  as  flitting  dreams; 
Unnumbered  generations  pass  away, 
The  earth  with  ruins  of  their  labor  teems; 
When  fond  posterity  would  homage  pay 
They  seek  some  sure  memorial,  where  all  things  decay. 

XLIII. 

Places  of  earth,  where  famous  deeds  were  done, 
Or  siteless  areas  of  once  turmoiled  seas, 
Why  are  ye  honored?  why  do  pilgrims  shun 
Fair  scenes  of  earth,  the  daintiest  tastes  to  please, 
To  seek  some  shrine  whose  long  lost  sanctities 
Have  left  but  ruins — mount,  or  cave,  or  plain, 
A  shore,  a  ROCK,  or  gnarled  and  sapless  trees, 
To  mark  what  has  been?     Here  they  seek  to  gain 
Gleams  of  th'  Invisible,  tho'  naught  but  these  remain. 

XLIV. 

The  realms  of  mind  and  spirit,  far  more  real 
Than  e'en  the  granite  rocks,  that  human  eyes 
Think  real  to  look  upon;  with  hands  to  feel 
Whose  very  matter  changes  as  time  flies; 
Oh!  may  the  soul  hereafter,  say  ye  wise! — 
The  heaven-born  soul  these  subtleties  attain? 
The  depth,  and  influence,  as  realities 
Enjoy — of  every  onward  step  they  gain, 
Who  in  this  earthly  life  encumbered  truth  make  plain. 


42  PURITAN.  LConto  in. 

XLV. 

Ye  who  are  wrapt  in  matter,  bound  in  clay, 
Go  hence,  and  view  enthused  a  trodden  STONE, 
Where  Puritan's  worn  footsteps  stayed  that  day! 
All  else  has  passed  beyond  you;   that  alone 
Yet  not  unchanged,  as  fond  memorial  shown; 
But  ye  philosophers,  behold  his  soul 
Transfuse  a  nation's  being — seed  there  sown, 
Of  lofty  principles,  have  subtly  grown, 
Until  Vis  spirit  animates  the  whole, 
And  will,  with  fruits  of  liberty,  while  time  shall  roll! 

XLVI. 

Children  of  men!  ye  are  immortal,  all! 
Ye  people  this  material  universe; 
Your  airy  spirits  tread  this  earthly  ball 
Held  here  by  weight  of  matter — laws  rehearse 
How  greater  forms  all  lesser  bulks  coerce. 
Your  senses  are  adapted  to  enjoy 
The  beauteous  things  about  you,  forms  diverse, 
To  frame  of  crudest  matter,  to  employ 
Life's  span  to  better  earth,  and  purge  the  soul's  alloy. 

XLVII. 

Give  then  the  spirit  respite;  let  it  feel 
Its  strong  affinity  with  things  unseen. 
Teach  it  to  know  the  spiritual  real ; 
Its  love  from  things  of  earth  seek  ye  to  wean, 
Immortal  hopes  from  earthly  hopes  to  glean; 
All  matter  must  decay,  then  love  it  not. 
The  earth  itself  must  perish,  what  hath  been 
Is  now  no  more,  or  changing;  time  allot 
To  dwell  on  heavenly  things,  pure  joys  ye  scarcely  wot. 


Canto  III.}  PURITAN.  43 

XLVIII. 

And  most  of  all,  for  most  of  pain  is  there, 
Love  not  the  spirit's  tenement  too  well; 
The  rainbow  lives  a  moment,  tints  most  rare 
Of  sunset  skies,  how  fitfully  they  dwell 
Upon  the  vision!     Harmonies  may  spell, 
But  listening — fade  forever  from  the  ear; 
And  pleasures  far  less  transient  these  excel, 
Pure  subtle  joys  to  every  sense  most  dear, 
But  sure  as  rainbows  fade,  and  bright  skies  disappear, 

XLIX. 

So  sure  these  forms  must  perish;  let  the  heart 
Love  first  the  source  of  spirit-life — its  God. 
And  then  of  earthly  treasures,  love  the  part 
That  cannot  perish — let  the  immortal  plod 
The  path  of  life,  and  strive  to  make  its  clod 
A  beauty  and  a  blessing — yet  to  feel 
Content  to  lay  it  low  beneath  the  sod, 
When  heaven  recalls  the  spirit;     Oh!   the  weal 
Of  perfect  faith  in  all  that  God  doth  here  reveal. 

L. 

It  was  a  joy  to  find  sweet  running  streams ; 
Fair  fields  expanding,  aye,  a  goodly  site; 
No  more  he  cared  to  view — these  precious  gleams 
Of  hope,  he  yearned  convey  soon  as  he  might, 
To  those  dear  anxious  ones,  from  whose  fond  sight 
So  many  days  dissevered — glad  to  lead 
The  great  ship  thence.      Tho'  cruel  ills  affright, 
They  disembark  on  that  cold  shore  ;  hearts  bleed 
As  frail  and  tender  footsteps  o'er  its  ices  speed. 


PURITAN. 


CANTO    THE   FOURTH. 


RETROSPECT. 


I. 

•HO  said  it  was  the  Morning  Star  that  shone, 
Rousing  the  nations  for  the  coming  light  ? 
Fallacious,  fond  belief;  thick  clouds  had  thrown 
A  dense,  dark  veil,  athwart  the  dome  of  night; 
There  was  no  force,  that  with  resistless  might 
Could  tear  the  blackness,  till  at  the  very  noon 
Of  utter  night;  then  heav'nly  beams  grow  bright, 
And  thro'  the  shrinking  vapors  shine  the  moon 
And  long-prevented  stars :  with  Heaven  man  may  commune 

II. 

But  the  same  Power  that  swept  the  clouds  away, 
Revealing  to  the  wakeful,  wished-for  light, 
Gathered  the  folds  again,  and  stayed  each  ray, 
However  fitful,  from  the  earth's  deep  night; 
Welcome  the  many,darkness;  men  delight 
To  slumber,  calmly,  trusting  watchmen  lone, 
Where  on  the  towers  they  strain  the  weary  sight. 
How  black  the  zenith,  where  the  orbs  late  shone! 
North,  South,  West,  East,  a  dark  close  smothering  horixon 
7  (45) 


46  PURITAN.  l>»"  i 

m. 

Those  watchmen  died,  successors  passed  away, 
But  those  who  stood  the  time,  did  see  the  Star, 
The  Morning  Star!  paled  by  the  coming  day! 
Tho'  the  unrisen  Sun  was  still  afar, 
Ever,  less  bright,  the  glowing  glories  mar 
Its  shining.      Now  the  whiteness  purples;  grows 
The  band  of  brightness,  crowding  clouds  would  bar 
The  glory,  but  the  earth  rolls  on!  how  glows 
The  ruddy  East!     The  darkest  clouds  bright  rays  enrose 

IV. 

Bright,  all  their  varied  points  and  edges,  thrown 
Against  dark  depths  in  glowing  almandine ; 
The  atmosphere  along  the  earth,  quick  shone 
With  light,  as  gorgeous  as  thro'  ruddy  wine; 
The  fearful  'gan  dread  portents  to  divine, 
The  blood  red  orb  rose  vast,  dire  mortal  strife 
Presaging;  high  the  sun,  in  hyaline, 
Pure,  azure  depths,  the  snowy  clouds  were  rife; 
Beneath  such  skies,  earth  was  astir  with  busy  life. 

V. 

The  clouds  had  screened  awhile  the  mountain  heights, 
But  soon  evanishing  to  azure  air, 
Disclosed  their  dazzling  snows;  reflected  lights 
Brightened  the  land  around,  and  every  where 
Brought  charms  to  life  beneath  the  glorious  glare; 
As  well  intensest  contrast; — shadows  deep, 
Frigid,  eternal,  darksome,  ever  there; 
But  fair  the  silent  lakes  reflect  each  steep, 
Sunlit  or  dark,  pure  forms  they  sternly  strive  to  keep. 


Canto  1^  PURITAN.  47 

.       VI. 

But  what  of  PURITAN  !  forefathers  his 
Were  watchmen  darkest  nights;  the  moon,  each  star, 
Had  seen ;  the  sleepers  roused  from  lethargies, 
To  watch  the  expected  dawn  tho'  clouds  it  mar, 
And  kept  them  wakeful,  when  it  seemed  afar; 
When  rose  the  burning  orb,  they  strong  and  stern, 
Welcomed  presaging  dangers ;  peace  or  war 
Alike  to  them;  the  day  had  dawned,  return, 
Should  such  night  never;  tho'  themselves  for  torches  burn. 

VII 

The  night  had  had  its  uses;  tho'  the  earth 
It  had  in  darkness  shrouded,  making  man 
To  stumble,  blind ;  giv'n  dang'rous  errors  birth, 
Confusing  human  senses;  to  their  ken, 
It  had  celestial  things  made  brightest  then, 
Had  lured  their  spirits  upward,  free  to  gaze 
On  glories,  else  perchance  to  denizen 
Of  earth  forever  lost ;  but  these  ne'er  raise 
Their  anxious,  willful  eyes,  they  seek  for  naught  to  praise. 

VIII. 

They  were  the  type  for  martyrs;  they  could  see 
Naught  good  in  that  which  they  had  learned  to  hate; 
Nor  trust  e'en  virtue  in  an  enemy; 
To  die  was  nothing;  'twas  a  welcome  fate, 
Rather  than  what  they  held  as  truth,  abate 
One  jot.     'Gainst  earthly  powers  they  fearless  turned, 
Patient  to  perseveringly  await 

Their  time;  if  need  be  peace  or  life  they  spurned; 
Death  pangs  to  such  tried  faith  had  untold  numbers  earn'd. 


48  PURITAN.  l>"'° l 

IX. 

There  was  a  scroll  they  long  had  known    divine ; 
Thro'  darkest  nights  its  teachings  had  them  cheered, 
Prized  as  the  choicest  heirloom  of  their  line  ; 
Now  yearned  they  much,  that  what  they  thus  revered 
By  secret  consolations,  long  endeared, 
Should  to  their  friends  and  followers  hence  impart 
Its  precepts  rare;  its  threat'nings  to  be  feared; 
Searching  the  depths  of  every  human  heart, — 
Would  they  had  learned  it  all, as  they  had  learned  a  part! 

X. 

But  'tis  as  well;  they  who  behold  mankind 
Mirrored  in  ages  past,  can  see  that  none 
Who  have  reformed  the  world,  but  have  been  blind 
To  every  good  in  that  which  they  would  shun ; 
And  in  fell  mortal  strife,  have  victories  won, 
Which  they  had  lost,  if  less  inflamed  adverse, 
Making  the  world  more  pure;  but  there  was  ONE, 
Reformers  heed  it  when  ye  seek  coerce! — 
His  charity  has  purified  the  Universe! 

XI. 

Grand  sire  of  Puritan  the  tyrant's  threat 
Defied,  when  chained    he  duplicated  scrolls; 
When  King  and  cringing  Parliament  had  set 
Statutes  of  blood  to  immolate  men's  souls. 
The  creeds  of  all  mankind  the  King  controls, 
Aye  thoughts  and  feelings  dictates;  he,  as  winds, 
Wayward,  inconstant ;  curses ; — then  extolls ; 
His  own  commands,  a  later  hour  rescinds, 
Reveres  the  scrolls  awhile,  then  burns  like  living  fiends. 


Canto  iv.-\  PURITAN.  49 

XII. 

Must  Nations  change  their  faith  when  kings  expire? 
Are  men  parts  integrant?      Must  they  be  swayed 
By  breath  of  divers  monarchs'  mere  desire? 
The  mightiest  forests  bow  when  winds  upbraid; 
All  bending  low  on  height  or  slope  or  glade, 
Again  eredl,  to  stand,  when  pass'd  the  gale : — 
Thus  strove  the  tyrant  kings  to  be  obeyed; 
How  gloried  stubborn  wills  to  see  them  fail  :— 
Nor  was  the  iron  hand  of  power  of  much  avail. 

XIII. 

Do  not  the  mountain  pines  that  bear  the  blasts 
Of  many  winters'  storms,  vast  strength  attain? 
When  sweeps  the  hurricane,  its  fury  casts 
To  earth  whole  forests  on  the  extended  plain; — 
Uprooted,  shattered,  where  its  path  hath  lain  ; — 
But  when  it  smites  the  storm-trained  mountain  pines, 
Quivering,  they  stand  the  swift  and  fearful  strain; 
Scarcely  a  branch  dissevered;  their  long  lines 
Serried,  unbroken,  the  deep  blue  of  heaven  defines. 

XIV. 

Thus  was  the  will  of  Puritanic  race, 
Made  as  unbending  as  the  mountain  pine, 
By  storms  of  persecution  ; — for  a  space 
Alternate  with  prosperity's  sunshine. 
A  gentle  youth,  their  king,  their  foes  consign 
To  banishment;  their  purposes  succeed, 
Tho'  wroth  that  kingly  power  would  still  confine 
Their  wills  within  the  bounds  of  his  own  creed; 
They  now  demand  their  souls  from  all  decrees  be  freed. 


50  PURITAN.  [c*»t°  ir. 

xv. 

Would  that  the  knights,  and  followers  of  their  faith, 
Had  been  content,  while  goodly  days  thus  bless; 
More  fierce  than  ever,  storms  of  fearful  wrath 
Follow  that  respite;  mandates  merciless, 
The  wretched  peoples  fill  with  dire  distress; 
That  day  too  passed;  men's  hopes  rose  fair  again, 
Long  exiled  feet  their  native  shores  may  press, 
Fearless  of  papal  power,  but  deep  their  pain 
That  stern  prerogatives  dread  errors  still  maintain. 

XVI. 

Capes,  copes,  robes,  rites,  creeds,  ceremonies  made 
To  suit  the  wishes  of  their  enemies; 
State  policy,  wise  compromises  weighed — 
When  strong  arm'd  pow'r,  now  moulds  a  faith  to  please 
The  shifting  temper  of  majorities; — 
A  state  religion  full  of  fallacies, 
Which  all  men  must  beUeve  on  pain  of  death ! 
Who  dares  assert  it,  diftate  heresies! 
The  voice  of  kings!  creatures  of  mortal  breath, — 
No,  never!     Christ  is.  King,  sole  judge  of  Christian  faith. 

XVII. 

And  all  the  rights  of  kings,  long  held  divine,  . 
Were  sifted,  and  the  chaff  giv'n  to  the  winds ; 
And  men  began  kings'  .powers  to  define, 
And  show  the  spirit  of  self-franchised  minds. 
Their  chivalry,  and  long  submission,  blinds — 
A  wise  and  kingly  Queen  maintains  strong  power — 
The  many  to  the  issues.     But  she  finds 
Dread  clouds  of  conflict  o'er  the  kingdom  lower, 
And  she  essays  to  grasp  and  crush  them  in  an  hour! 


Canto  If.}  PURITAN.  51 

XVIII. 

She  might  as  well  have  sought  to  grasp  and  crush 
The  fleecy  clouds  of  heav'n  in  her  weak  hands; 
'T  was  vain  to  smite  the  air  around,  to  hush 
The  breezes  where  the  royal  palace  stands: — • 
Immortal  spirits  scorned  her  proud  commands ; 
True,  she  might  crush  the  body,  but  the  soul 
Was  farther  from  her  touch,  than  o'er  the  lands, 
Lay  the  fair  clouds;  far,  far  'yond  her  control; — 
Exalted  faith  extends,  despite  her  care  and  dole. 

XIX. 
Aye  such  a  temper  Puritan  begot; 

He,  hungry,  sucked  it  from  maternal  breasts. 

« 
His  infancy  first  lisped  it,  and  he  wot    - 

Of  popes  and  bishops,  and  the  sinful  teats 
Of  images,  and  rites,  all  that  molests* 
The  perfect  practice  of  his  father's  creed  : 
The  banished  clergy  .knows  as  welcome  guests, 
Small  hands  destroy  that  which  he  can  not  read, 
And  tiny  feet  stamp  images,  nor  threat'nings  heed. 

XX. 

His  will  and  conscience  strengthen  with  his  strength 
He  knows  what  he  will  have,  and  he  can  bear 
All  that  it  needeth,  to  secure  at  length 
Fulfillment  of  his  purpose ;  tall  and  fair, 
His  mafijy  youth  betokens  tender  care ; 
For  much  his  sire  abhorred  the  frequent  sneer 
That  all  his  race  were  rude;  his'  followers  there 
Untaught  and  uncouth  hinds,  their  brutish  leer 
Despised  by  gentle  blood — he  felt  himself  a  peer 


52  PURIT4N.  ic*™ir 

XXI. 

In  gaining  gentle  lore  and  knowledge  deep, 
His  years  were  spent,  and  much  he  did  delight 
Chivalrous  arms  to  bear,  athletic  keep 
By  exercise  untiring,  tho'  in  sight 
No  badge  or  token  bore,  the  least  to  slight 
The  purest  faith,  held  by  his  ancestry; 
And  when  he  had  arrived  at  manhood's  height, 
He  was  aye  stalwart,  noble,  wise  was  he, 
Mingling  with  courtly  knights  and  dames  right  worthily. 

XXII. 

Fearless  in  Parliament,  his  voice  was  heard; 
His  watchword,  Liberty !  Altho'  the  rage 
Of  princes  fell  upon  him,  when  the  word 
Was  stifled  by  thick  walls,  his  pen  'gan  wage 
A  secret  war,  that  nothing  could  assuage; 
When  strong  armed  power  prevented  labors  there, 
He  fled  to  other  lands,  free  to  engage 
In  conflicts:  learning  wisdom  every  where; 
Gaining  new  strength,  for  all  he  deemed  the  right  to  dare. 

XXIII. 

Nor  from  his  early  training  aught  could  wean, 
Where' wise  and  haughty  courtiers  seek  display 
About  the  sage-accomplished,  honored  queen: — 
Where  he  as  well,  now  mingled;  false  array 
Sad  as  deceiving,  aye  he  turned  away 
More  wholly,  bent  to  strive  for  liberty; 
For  purer  faith,  more  manfully  to  stay 
The  subtile  purposes  of  kingly  sway; 
As  years  passed  on,  the  many  seemed  to  be 
Too  hopeless,  dull,  and  blind  to  their  own  jeopardy. 


Canto  If.]  PURITAN. 


53 


XXIV. 

Still  he  despaired  not  of  his  native  land. 
Still  gained  he  followers,  he  wrote,  he  spake, 
But  still  the  throne  and  church  stood  hand  in  hand; 
Tho'  their  close  union  he  assayed  to  shake, 
Vain  was  his  power,  united  strength  to  break; 
The  sufferings  of  his  brethren  smote  his  heart, 
Dread  inquisitions,  rack,  and  sword,  and  stake, 
When  faithful  followers  perish,  sore  his  smart, 
Altho'  their  faith  and  hope  new  zeal  to  men  impart. 

XXV. 

Death  promis'd  soon  relief,  for  from  afar 
Another  sov'reign  comes,  free  Scotia's  hills 
Had  surely  bred  a  worthy  monarch,    bar     . 
And  ban  of  sternest  subjects'  fashioned  wills 
In  many  rulers  that  strong  hope  instills  ; 
But  he,  escaped  the  hateful  bonds  that  kept 
His  untamed  pride  in  fetters,  quickly  fills 
Late  hopeful  Puritan  with  grief;  he  wept; 
Unceasing  war  or  exile,  which  should  he  accept? 

XXVI. 

In  the  fierce  fervor  of  his  earlier  pride    ' 
War  had  been  welcome,  and  how  many  now 
In  his  adopted  realm,  the  king  defied. 
But  Puritan,  tho'  he  did  inly  vow 
To  aid  his  brethren,  thro'  that  dismal  slough 
Of  deep  despond,  was  forced  with  pain  to  think 
Of  turning  from  the  strife,  where  men  allow 
Others  their  own  opinions;  oh  the  brink 
Of  sure  destruction  here,    he  sole  the  draught  would  drink. 


54  PURITAN.  icuito  ir 

XXVII. 

But  there  were  tender  pledges,  and  he  shrank 
To  have  them  learn  such  sorrow,  and  he  knew, 
He  gone,  their  life  would  be  a  dreary  blank  ; 
Thro'  tortures,  prisons'  damps,  he  felt  how  few 
The  years  must  be,  ere  death  him  heavenward  drew. 
Sore  tried  to  leave  the  coining  conflict,  reached 
With  others,  Holland's  shores,  they  there  renew 
Their  broken  bonds;  thankful  their  friends  beseech'd, 
To  come  to  them, where  fervently  pure  faith  was  preach'cl. 

XXVIII. 

Beloved  was  Puritan, — respedled,  prized  : 
This,  his  adopted  land,  revered  him,  when 
Agents  of  wrath  his  king  had  authorized 
To  seize  him,  and  return  to  thralldom  then, 
That  he  might  soon  decay  in  noisome  pen; 
But  it  is  writ  elsewhere,  how  for  the  good 
Of  future  generations  he  'gan  ken 
New  England's  savage  shores — how  brave  he  stood 
Firm  on  that  frozen  coast,  'twixt  wave  and  wood : 
Thanking  his  God  for  far  and  peaceful  solitude. 

XXIX. 

And  of  his  brethren  in  the  realm  what  fate? 

Save  those  that  later  joined  the  infant  State, 

Proud,  bigoted,  more  selfish,  they  intent 

To  hold  their  homes  their  high  ambition  sate, 

Blindly  contend — fight  on,  nor  once  relent 

Until  the  realm  is  in  a  wild  ferment; 

Success  attends  them,  theirs  at  length  the  power; 


Canttir.-]  PURITAN.  55 

No  Kings,  no  Bishops,  long,  long  hoped-for  hour — - 
Attained  thro'  seas  of  blood!   but  discontent 
Follows  usurped,  unhallowed  government — 
Glad  to  escape  the  storms  that  threat'ning  lower, 
King — priests  restore — for  refuge  fly  to  Puritan's  far  tower! 


PURITAN. 


CANTO    THE    FIFTH. 


THE   SETTLEMENT. 


•  HO  is  the  noblest?    He  who  proud  and  strong, 

Advances  on  the  tide  of  life,  to  sway 
The  sword  or  sceptre  o'er  the  excited  throng, 
Wars  for  the  right,  and  vanquishes  the  wrong, 
Glorying  if  need  be,  casts  his  life  away 
Valiant  and  fervent  in  the  foremost  fray, 
Fame  him  alluring,  while  hot  passion  gives 
A  reckless,  headlong,  eagerness  alway, 
That  untold  wonders  in  its  course  achieves 
Renown  from  praiseful  hosts,  for  deeds  in  arms  receives  ? 

II. 

Or  is  he  most  heroic,  who  can  bear 
With  patience,  pangs  that  none  but  God  can  see, 
Making  the  good  of  others  his  sole  care, 
Sore  laboring  day  by  day,  tho'  there  can  be 
No  present  fruits;   striving  on  cheerfully, 
Bearing  and  suffering,  faithful;   when  decay 
His  earthly  hopes,  gaining  humility? 
Hail!  moral  hero!  heavenly  chivalry! 
As  far  as  souls  outvalue  mortal  clay, 
This,  that, — and  only  these  their  heavenly  Guide  obey. 

($7) 


5»  PURITAN.  [Canto    V. 

III. 

The  mighty  ship  lay  safe,  but  from  the  shore 
Twelve  weary  furlongs;   every  day  with  pain, 
Waiting  the  rising  tide,  with  travail  sore, 
Great  Puritan  to  man  the  bark  was  fain, 
Striving  with  oar  and  sail  the  land  to  gain; 
There  in  the  wet  cold  blasts,  they  timber  fell, 
Exposed  to  blinding  snows  and  sleet  and  rain, 
And  hew  and  heave,  seek  mortar,  thatch  as  well, 
Each  night  o'er  stormy  waves  regain  their  citadel. 

IV. 

Oh!  what  long,  weary,  toilsome,  sorrowing  moons, 
To  those  who  watched  their  labor  on  the  land 
The  stormy  nights,  or  gained  the  wretched  boons, 
To  slumber  on  the  ship,  where  suffering  band 
Pine  in  the  foetid  air;  they  pallid  stand, 
Praying  them  haste,  e'en  rudest  shelter  rear. 
For  much,  alas!  their  needs  such  change  demand; 
Alarmed,  they  knew  the  savage  hordes  too  near, 
Their  forms,  and  rising  smoke,  on  every  side  appear. 

V. 

As  ever-toiling  Puritan  returned 
From  labor  for  their  homes,  or  from  pained  quests 
Of  ever-hiding  savages,  he  yearn'd 
Remove  the  ills, his  followers  distressed  ; 
Sick'ning  and  dying  friends  his  soul  oppress'd, 
Death  from  his  followers'  arms,  their  dearest  tore, 
Sad  mothers  cast  their  young,  strong  sires  contest 
The  fatal  darts,  but  soon  their  comrades  bore 
Them  dead,  and  added  these,  to  those  they'd  wept  before 


Canto  y.-\  PURITAN.  59 

VI. 

To  grief  for  them,  was  added  keener  woe; 
The  tender  offspring  of  his  love  had  borne 
The  Ocean  blasts;  but  keener  winds  did  blow 
From  circling  frozen  coasts;  blithesome  at  morn, 
At  night  he  came,  the  mother  trembling,  worn, 
Held  to  her  anguished  breast  her  suffering  child; 
At  dawn,  the  icy  form  the  sine  had  torn, 
With  silent  sorrow,from  her  pressure  wild, 
Teaching  the  lowliest  there,  to  be  so  reconciled. 

VII. 

His  darling  languished;  nearest,  dearest  one, 
Pine  not  so  sorely  on  this  dreary  day  ! 
How  much  they  need  him  !  here  and  there  nigh  lone, 
He  tends  the  languid  couch ;  so  many  lay 
Diseased — scarce  half  a  score  to  help  allay 
Their  suff'rings;  these  him  aid;  they  bear  the  dead, 
They  keep  the  stealthy  savages  at  bay; 
Oh!  fearful  days!  oh  nights  of  drearihead  ! 
The  weeks  seemed  years,  and  yet  too  soon  they  sped. 

VIII. 

Each  time,  when  constant  pressing  care,  permits 
Him  cheer  his  frail,  and  now  more  fragile  fair, 
Striving  impart  love's  potent  benefits, 
He  grieved  to  mark  her  silver-threaded  hair; 
Tho'  his  each  fond  endeavor  of  wise  care, 
How  faint  and  pallid,  clear  each  ebbing  vein ! 
Vain  prayer  for  life,  but  not  God's  will  to  bear, 
Afar  from  her  lost  darling,    she  is  lain 
In  that  long  row  'neath  frozen  sod,  along  the  main. 


60  PURITAN.  !>«<»  r. 

IX. 

Thus  weariest  portion  of  the  toil  is  his ! 
Thus  fails  no  pang  of  deepest  drearihead ! 
To  weep  her  dead,  his  children  motherless! 
Ah  me!  ah  me!  she  was  too  daint'ly  bred, 
Too  tenderly,  too  frail,  when  here  bestead 
Such  weathers,  and  such  sorrow  ;  little  babe  ! 
Her  heart  could  not  keep  warm,  when  thou  wert  dead; 
She  laid  her  life  away  as  'twere  a  trabe, 
The  child,  her  darling,  was  her  spirit-astrolabe. 

X. 

Why  tell  it?  only  He  who  knows  the  heart, 
Knows  what  they  suffered,  for  their  every  moan 
Was  stifled,  lest  it  knowledge  should  impart 
Of  their  increasing  weakness ;  never  a  groan, 
As  they  buried  in  grief  the  dearest  one; 
The  savages  so  nigh,  so  watchful  too; 
The  graves  were  levelled,  thick  with  seed  were  sown, 
For  at  the  first,  they  were  alas!  too  few 
To  help  brave  Puritan  rear  homes,  and  foes  subdue! 

XI. 

But  when  the  warm  winds  blew,  and  birds  'gan  sing, 
The  sinking  were  refreshed ;  and  soon  came  days 
Of  sunny  warmth.      Welcome!  ye  buds  of  spring! 
Winter  is  past;  their  burden'd  hearts  always 
In  deep  thanksgiving,  they  rejoice  to  raise ! 
Now  from  the  forest  comes  bold  Samoset  ; 
"  Welcome  !  "  upon  his  lips,  a  welcome  phrase, 
In  that  dear  speech  of  England !  never  yet, 
Tho'  feigning  diffidence,  did  word  more  hope  beget! 


Ca»»r.}  PURJTJN.  6 1 

XII. 

The  big  ship  weighed  her  anchors,  and  her  prow 
Turned  for  old  England.      Calm  was  Puritan, 
Yet,  touched  by  grief  for  others,  bade  them  now 
Return,  if  any  mourned  his  earlier  vow; 
No,  never!  child,  nor  maid,  nor  wife,  nor  man! 
True  was  this  tried,  and  ever  faithful  van! 
Tho'  half  of  them  had  died,  their  trust  in  Him 
Whom  they  had  vow'd  to  serve,  life's  narrow  span 
Was  undiminished  ;  when  earth's  hopes  grew  dim, 
Faith  entered  heav'n,  joining  the  joys  of  Seraphim. 

XIII. 

The  last  link  was  dissevered,  from  their  ken 
Slow  swaying,  moved  the  ship!  how  swell'd  the  heart, 
Yearning  in  vain  for  pow'r  of  utt'rance  then  ! 
Striving  its  wild  emotions  to  impart, 
Yet  silent,  thro'  some  sad  mysterious  art  ; 
Still  Puritan  forbade  the  sacrifice ! 
"Yon  ship  sole  voice  'twixt  whom  these  waters  part; 
Ye  sorely  tried!  I  feel  what  yearnings  rise! 
Go!  'tis  your  native  land,  tho'  princes  tyrannize." 

XIV. 

There  rose  no  vagrant  impulse;  they  had  done 
All  things  devoutly,  and  deep  grief  can  bind 
The  heart  like  joy  :  that  earth  from  them  had  won, 
Pledges  to  bind  them  to  it,  had  the  mind 
Not  otherwise  for  dwelling  been  inclined; 
So  stood  they  firm,  tho'  weeping,  as  the  sails 
Filled  from  the  West ;  obedient  to  the  wind 
She  parted  the  dark  waters  ;  slowly  trails 
The  helm;  the  troubled  sea,  the  narrow  coast  bewails! 
9 


62  PURITAN.  {.cant,  r 

XV. 

Long  strained  each  eye,  until  the  less'ning  mass 
Faded  in  depths  of  azure  ;  naught  was  there 
Betwixt  the  sea  and  sky ;  yet  glances  pass, 
Gladsome  and  wondering,  when  upon  the  ear 
Falls  the  slow  pulsing  air,  and  they  can  hear 
The  last  low  volley  in  a  long  farewell ! 
Still  restless  waves  along  the  shore  appear, 
Some  tidings  of  that  voyaging  to  tell  ; 
But  nights  and  days  that  last  fond  trace  dispell'd  as  well. 

XVI. 

Through  all  the  summer  long  were  cheerful  daysj 
The  corn  was  gladsome  green,  and  fruits  began 
To  ripen  from  the  blossoms  ;  many  ways 
Thro'  the  deep  forest,  or  where  tangled  ran 
O'er  thickets  teeming  vines,  forbidding  man 
Trespass  the  shadowy  haunts,   were    beauties  rare; 
The  sea,  the  sky,  the  land,  divinest  plan 
With  ever  varying  details ;  flowers  fair, 
Insects  and  birds,  'mid  leaves  and  fruits  commingled  there. 

XVII. 

Berries  grew  on  the  bushes  'mid  the  grass ; 
Sweet  plums  and  cherries  and  the  amber  grapes. 
There  wealth  of  fishes  might  belief  surpass ; 
No  goodly  gift  denied  them,  when  escapes 
Their  golden  harvest  from  the  phantom  shapes 
Of  frosts  and  blightings,  and  is  safely  stored: — 
Vast  flocks  of  fowls  enter  the  circling  capes ; 
Unhoped-for  wealth  of  luxuries  !     Each  board 
Groans  with  the  feast  j  their  God  in  thanks  and  praise  adored. 


&»'°  r-1  PURITAN.  63 

XVIII. 

The  joys  and  sorrows  of  those  faithful  few, 
Why  tell  ?  fast  friends,  aye  peers  of  Puritan — 
Worthy,  as  honored;  humble,  yet  how  true; 
But  Puritan's  high  purpose  far  outran 
Their  simple  hopes,  their  slow  expanding  plan; 
He  saw  their  little  village  but  a  dot 
Upon  a  vasty  shore  ;  enrapt  would  scan 
The  sailless  ocean,  or  would  seek  some  spot 
To  gaze  to  West,  o'er  lands  whose  breadth  no  mortal  wot. 

XIX. 

Yet  ceased  he  not  from  labor  for  their  good  ; 
Spared  much,  for  heav'n  had  giv'n  them  this  abode  ; 
Fierce  habitants  had  once  this  solitude 
Denied,  now  perished  utterly.     He  strode 
Thro'  all  their  haunts,  and  saw  how  death  had  mowed 
The  native  race,  like  weeds,  as  'twere  to  plant 
The  better  peoples,  God  had  there  bestowed  ; 
But  other  tribes  anear  were  arrogant, 
Saving  great  Massasoit,  he,  true  as  adamant. 

XX. 

Once  when  the  Indian  monarch  fell  disease 
Had  smitten  unto  death — the  fearless  knight 
Hastened  alone,  daring  all  jeopardies, 
Thro'  pathless  forests  traced  his  way  aright, 
Spared  by  each  wondering  savage,  till  in  sight 
Of  death-doomed  chieftain's  dwelling;  there  he  found 
How  wailing  wives  and  pow  wows,  sad  unite 
Their  tears  with  thronging  subjects,  to  confound 
And  conjure  forth  grim  death,  with  groans  that  might  astound. 


64  PURITAN.  |>*" 

XXI. 

It  was  a  new  but  grateful  task,  and  straight, 
Not  resting  from  his  travel,  Puritan 
Sought  how  he  might  his  pangs  alleviate, 
His  parching  fever  to  assuage  began ; 
His  dark  and  swollen  tongue,  he,  speechless,  wan, 
Relaxed  its  rigor;  soon  such  tender  care 
Bro't  back  his  life;  they  praised  the  Godlike  man, 
For  wondrous  potent  power,  that  could  repair 
The  ravages  of  death,  and  fond  allegiance  swear! 

XXII. 

"  Know,  mighty  chieftain,"  said  that  grateful  prince, 
"What  dangers  here  enthrong  you — Corbatant 
Obbatin — Canacum — sachem  and  pinse 
Bound  in  fierce  wrath,   and  solemn  covenant, 
To  smite  the  strangers  who  their  lands  would  plant; 
Theirs,  all  their  past — theirs,  where  in  wild  excess 
The  beasts  and  fowls  and  fishes,  none  shall  daunt 
With  strange  report  of  arms,  whose  mightiness 
Can  pierce  the  dark  and  far  ofF  ear  with  pangs  distress. 

XXIII. 

"Sure  as  yon  sun  shall  sink  beneath  the  West 
So  sure  such  foe  will  smite;  they  only  seek 
A  fitting  moment  when  unguarded  rest 
Shall  make  more  sure  their  vengeance;  fearful, weak, 
But  for  an  hour,  they  watchful,  quick  will  wreak 
Such  fury  on  you,  that  no  living  soul 
Shall  'scape  to  tell  the  tale,  or  aid  bespeak; — 
Strike  then,  the  first — appalled  in  utmost  dole, 
Their  chieftains  gone,  the  warriors  you  may  eath  control. 


PURIT2N.  65 


XXIV. 

"Never,"  said  Puritan,  "never  will  I 
Strike  the  first  blow  on  these  defenseless  hordes  ; 
'  Seeking  the  calm  repose  of  Liberty  ' 
I  came  in  peace,  and  peaceful  will  aby, 
So  long  as  these  give  ear  to  peaceful  words; 
But  I  am  wary,  and  these  unsheathed  swords, 
Are  sharp,  two  edg'd,  and  glitt'ring  as  yon  sun; 
Let  them  but  shoot  an  arrow,  and  the  cords 
Of  this  fond  faith  dissever!  I  will  shun 
No  direful  deed  of  blood,  until  they  are  undone." 

XXV. 

"It  is  as  well,  Oh     hero!  for  I  see 
Portents  by  divination  ;  these  have  been 
Thro'  many  generations,  fierce  and  free,  — 
Untrammell'd  as  untutor'd,  now  to  ween 
O'erwhelming  power,  swift,  fatal,  tho'  unseen, 
A  baneful  presence  and  in  vain  assailed  ; 
Aye  it  is  galling,  —  savage  hate  how  keen  ! 
What  seas  of  blood  will  flow,  ere  are  unveiled      / 
The  mighty  lands  to  West,  fate  vainly  countervailed! 

XXVI. 

"  Fate  known  in  vain  ;  death  drew  the  vei.,  «nd  clear 
Flitted  the  sure  perspective  ;  as  the  day 
Dawns  in  the  East,  as  earliest  gleams  appear, 
The  stars  evanish  ;  fade  they  —  fade  away  ! 
The  Sun  spares  not  the  rarest  galaxy  ! 
Ye!  children  of  the  Sun"!'  your  day  just  dawns; 
We  fill  the  land,  as  stars  the  night  array; 
As  grows  your  strength,  our  joy  forever  wans  ; 
Yet  in  your  triumph  fear,  —  fear  most  the  foe  that  fawns. 


66  PURITAN.  [fc»«» 

XXVII. 

"The  stars  of  heaven  fade  calmly  from  the  sight; 
Not  so  will  these;  as  meteors  expire, 
As  pass  the  comets,  waking  wild  affright, 
As  dart  the  lightnings  with  consuming  fire, 
In  midday  wreaking  wide,  destruction  dire, 
So  will  these  war !     Thus  ruthlessly  decay, 
Yet  none  the  less  they  perish,  and  their  ire 
Undying,  self-consuming,  speeds  the  day 
Free  in  the  blest  abodes  'neath  Kictan's  sway  ; 
Free,  for  in  life  or  death  they  must  be  free  alway. 

XXVIII. 

"  But  fear  me  not ;  have  I  not  made  my  vow  ? 
When  was  my  truth  dishonored;  me  and  mine 
To  thee  and  thine  will  be  true  friends;  but  now, 
My  life  was  in  thy  hands,  thy  power  divine 
Was  fond  to  frustrate  e'en  death's  dark  design ; 
Thou  seest  the  leafless  trees  in  yonder  wood ; — 
Stalwart  and  distant,  tho'  the  twigs  entwine; 
So  dwell  the  native  tribes,  strong,  unsubdued, 
Scant  peopling  vast,  far-stretching  lands,  else  solitude. 

XXIX. 

"But  races  thine  will  throng  the  mighty  land! 
As  multitudinous  as  in  the  days 
Of  coming  summer,  will  the  leaves  expand 
Upon  the  forest  trees ;  see  how  decays 
The  forest !  mark  the  fields !  see  how  they  raise 
Cities  and  villages!     There  structures  rise 
Like  hills,  like  mountains,  see!   what  wondrous  ways 
On  sea  and  lake,  and  river, — they  entice 
Those  mighty  floats!  farewell!  my  native  Paradise!" 


PURIT4N.  6  7 


XXX. 

It  filled  the  knight  with  rapture,  for  he  oft 
Had  had  strange  visions,  and  succeeding  dreams 
Of  wondrous  exaltation  ;   he  aloft 
Was  wont  to  seek  for  succor,  and  he  deems 
Heaven  lights  his  soul  with  these  celestial  beams, 
T'  impart  fresh  strength  and  fervor;  strong  he  treads 
A  homeward  path;   his  brain  with  projects  teems 
To  haste  such  consummation  ;   fancy  spreads 
Fair  villages  about  him,  nor  dread  labor  dreads. 

XXXI. 

Time  passed,  and  his  few  followers  felt  repose ; 
Sweet  respite  from  long  labors,  strong  and  wise, 
They  had  secured  the  end  for  which  they  chose 
To  daie  the  Ocean's  unknown  jeopardies. 
Their  pray'rs  and  thanks,  unquestion'd,  h^av'nward  rise; 
But  not  so  eath  content  was  Puritan ; — 
In  near  adventure  or  far  enterprise 
To  quell  oft-rising  dangers,  or  to  scan 
The  land  and  shores  about  them — hope  thro'  ages  ran. 

XXXII. 

Full  many  a  site  he  chose,  and  chiefly  one 
Near,to  his  soul  enticing,  thro'  the  bay 
Studded  with  countless  islands,  he  had  gone 
To  greet  the  sachem  queen,  beyond  where  lay 
The  wanton  colony,  whose  soon  decay 
Left  ruin'd  Wessagusset,  those,  (men  tell) 
Had  Puritan  defended  valiantly, 
From  sure  destruction;  he  supreme  to  quell 
The  riotous  strangers,  and  the  savage  hordes  as  well. 


68  PURITAN.  1C',.*;  r 

XXXIII. 

His  emprize  thus  accomplished,  yearned  his  heart 
To  seek  the  far-off  turmoiled  hopeless  scene 
Of  freedom's  struggles    in  the  realm, t'  impart 
True  knowledge  of  the  lands  his  eye  had  seen — 
The  heritage  of  freedom — he  had  been 
Long  years  to  man  securing;  o'er  the  sea, 
The  frequent  ships  bro't  tidings  he  did  ween, 
Pregnant  with  undream'd  horrors,  this  must  be 
A  refuge  for  his  brethren  from  all  tyranny ! 

XXXIV. 

The  fort  was  finished;  and  its  bristling  ports 
Looked  watchful,  o'er  the  village  and  the  bay ; 
Their  favor  now,  each  wily  sachem  courts ; 
True  friends  to  guard  new  sites,  lest  foes  betray — 
He  secretly  set  sail,  vast  schemes  to  lay 
Before  his  kindred  in  his  native  land. 
What  hosts  shall  rise  his  power  to  obey ! 
The  sea  shall  groan,  as  countless  sails  expand, 
To  waft  to  West,  the  untold  hosts  of  his  command. 


PURITAN. 


CANTO    THE    SIXTH. 


LABORS    IN    ENGLAND. 


1. 

AUSE!  Ye  who  hold  the  fate  of  nations,  pause! 

Ye  stand  upon  destruction's  brink,  nor  weet 
The  ruin  that  awaits  you ;  leave  the  cause 
For  fools  to  prate  of,  and  prepare  to  meet 
Events  fast  consummating,  or  defeat 
Sudden,  o'erwhelming,  fairest  hopes  will  blight 
Ye  never  can  restore ;   what  foul  deceit 
And  selfishness  perverts  all  sense  of  right! 
Ponder  each  issue!     Choose  and  act  with  wise  foresight. 

II. 

"  Ye  stand,  as  stood  the  host  of  Israel, 
Enthronging  low  the  valley,  from  whose  ken 
The  gathering  storm  was  hid,  until  it  fell 
In  overwhelming  fury ;   I,  as  when — 
Elijah  stood  on  Carmel — prayed  he  then — 
His   watchman    marked  the  cloud,  small  as  a  hand, 
Rise  from  the  sea,  quick  warning  thoughtless  men— 
As  Ahab  hastened  on  at  his  command, 
Spar'd  from  the  rains  and  blasts  that  drench'd  the  thirsty 
land. 

10 


70  PURITAN.  O*» 

in. 

"  Hasten  to  flee  the  wrath  that  waits  you  here, 
Laud,  Strafford,  and  false  Finch,  without  remorse, 
Make  freemen  fettered  slaves ;  each  horrid  fear 
Of  past  accursed  reign,  with  twofold  force 
Is  growing  into  faft;   from  hellish  source, 
The  double  stream  of  kings  and  priestly  sway, 
Is  stirring  wrath  in  its  resistless  course, 
Now  big  with  ruin  ;  tho'  the  flood  ye  stay, 
Such  triumph  as  defeat  the  nation  will  dismay. 

IV. 

"Why  hesitate,  oh!  weak  and  selfish  men! 
Are  not  the  bravest,  the  most  daring  there? 
Sure  as  the  earth's  foundations — there  and  then 
Was  laid  the  corner  stone  of  structure  rare, 
That  ye  shall  help  build  up,  if  ye  do  bear 
Yourselves  as  worthy  such  a  weighty  charge : 
For  Solomon,  King  David  did  prepare 
Exhaustless  riches,  that  he  might  enlarge 
God's  glory ;  well  ye  wot  he  did  his  part  discharge, 

V. 

"And  reared  a  temple  of  undream'd-of  art; 
Cedar  from  Lebanon,  and  algum  trees, 
O'erlaid  with  gold  composed  each  holiest  part; 
Rich  gold  of  Parvaim,  fine  filagrees 
Of  beaten  gold,  and  carved  ivories, 
And  precious  Stones,  unnumbered;  strangers  wrought 
In  silver,  iron,  brass;  across  far  seas, 
Thousands  of  skillful  workmen  wisely  sought. 
Conception  grand  ; — thus  wisely  to  completion  brought. 


Canton.]  PURITAN.  71 

VI. 

"Your  fathers  have  amass'd  the  wealth  ye  need 
Of  spiritual  riches;  thousands  stand 
Waiting  to  give  wise  aid,  in  word  and  deed, 
Ready  to  give  strong  aid,  with  heart  and  hand; 
Be  ye  but  faithful  to  your  Lord's  command, 
And  skillful  laborers  will  the  work  advance 
With  zeal  untiring,  till  th'  inviting  land 
Shall  groan  beneath  the  structure;  heaven's  expanse 
Grow  brighter  o'er  that  Temple's  domed  magnificence. 

VII. 

"  The  wondrous  vision  unto  me  was  brought 
The  middle  watch  of  night,  when  deepest  sleep 
Falleth  on  man ;  fear  came  upon  me,  fraught 
With  trembling,  which  made  all  my  flesh  to  creep, 
The  very  hairs  thereof  stood  up,  and  deep, 
Deep  awe  made  all  my  timorous  bones  to  shake. 
Instant  the  spirit  seemed  thro'  space  to  sweep — 
Forms  vast  confused  beheld — a  voice  loud  spake, 
'  The  task  is  thine,'  ah  sure  my  soul  was  well  awake. 

VIII. 

"The  holy  vision,  perfeft  faith  esteems; — 
As  I  have  dwelt  upon  that  fruitful  shore, 
As  I  have  learned  the  wealth  with  which  it  teems, 
As  I  have  heard,  as  I  have  seen  far  more, 
As  He  hath  given  me  light  whom  I  adore ; 
Upon  the  finished  summit,  I  have  stood, 
High  o'er  the  earth,  exalted,  to  explore 
The  untold  realm ;  'mid  heaven's  solitude, 
The  varied  land,  vision  prophetic  clearly  viewed — 


72  PURITJN.  [Cum-,  ri. 

IX. 

"  Two  Oceans  clasped  the  continent,  where  moored 
Navies  on  either  shore;  all  nations  seemed 
To  bring  rich  commerce,  and  each  vale  allured 
Thy  multitud'nous  offspring;   cities  teemed 
With  countless  hosts,  each  stream  with  wealth  undreamed  ; 
Nor  think  to  sail  from  sea  to  sea,  thro'  space 
Narrow  united — mountain  heights  far  gleamed, 
Wide  severed  by  vast  valleys,  brightly  trace, 
Vast  rivers  there,  how  far  they  flow,  whence  springs  en 
lace! 

X 

"High  from  the  airy  Temple's  sunny  dome, 
I  gazed  entranced  ;  and  mark'd  the  peoples  there, 
Like  summer  bees,  as  ladened  thick  they  come 
About  the  busy  hive;   with  earnest  cheer, 
Enthronging  dense  laborious  every  where : 
What  cities,  towns  and  villages,  what  homes, 
Dotting  the  cultured  fields;  how  peaceful  fair! 
What  tho'  the  storm  in  dark'ning  fury  comes, 
It  passes,  and  the  land  its  busy  life  resumes. 

XI. 

"  More  glorious  than  Coliseum  vast, 
The  eternal  edifice  from  whence  I  gazed; 
The  circling  columns  human  art  surpassed; 
Like  sunbeams  of  the  moted  air,  they  raised 
Story  on  story,  while  the  eye  amazed 
Stretched  thro'  the  soft  perspective,  far  away — 
Till  'neath  Auroras,  thro'  the  air  unhazed 
Where  gleaming  ices  caught  each  starry  ray ; 
So  far,  its  glist'ning  collonades  to  northward  lay. — 


canto  vi.-\  p  UR IT2N.  7  3 

XII. 

"  Nor  failed  they  in  the  tropics,  where  the  skies 
Were  deep  and  cloudless;   lofty  palm-trees  waved 
Beneath  the  airy  arches,  where  the  rise 
Of  circling  shores  most  gorgeous  blooms  engraved. 
And  yet,  to  where  the  Oceans  softly  laved 
The  unworn  columns,  with  their  constant  flow; 
How  far  the  shores  the  golden  pavements  paved ! 
About  me  gathered  folds,  whose  crimson  glow 
Contrasted  with  the  cloud-like  lines  of  dazzling  snow. — 

XIII. 

"And high,  aloft,  the  countless  stars  of  light 
Gleamed  on  the  azure ;  fell  a  shadiness 
Sudden  and  flitting;  mark'd  I  near  in  sight, 
The  strong-winged  Eagle,  the  empyrean  press, 
Slow  swaying  to  the  West,  with  haughtiness; 
His  eye,  undaunted,  fixed  upon  the  sun, 
Fresh  as  tho'  yesterday  in  Rome's  distress 
He  had  disdained  abide ;  her  shame  to  shun — 
Imperial  power  lost,  Westward  had  Empire  won. 

XIV. 

"  Now  caught  the  ear  far  pasans  of  liberty ! 
Freedom  forever!  thro'  united  power! 
From  frigid  North  the  strains  intensify ; 
From  farthest  West,  where  mighty  mountains  tower; 
From  farthest  East,  augmenting  every  hour; 
Thunders  of  '  Liberty  and  Union,  now, 
Forever!  one,  inseparable!'  'gan  lower 
Dread  storms,  but  peals  swept  on,  to  where  palms  bow 
In  solemn  murmurs,  echoing  back  the  nation's  vow." 


74  PURITAN.  [c™<o  vi. 

XV. 

Thus  spake  the  hero;  and  the  list'ning  throng, 
Intent  and  wondering,  raised  the  loud  acclaim 
Of  "Liberty!"  "New  England!"  cheers  prolong, 
Until  the  prudent  knight,  in  middest  came 
With  warnings,  lest  too  boisterous  zeal  inflame, 
Their  adversaries'  hearts.     In  councils  sage, 
His  friends  and  followers  meeting,  faith  proclaim, 
Ever  in  secret,  lest  such  zeal  enrage 
The  stubborn  powers  that  hold  e'en  souls  in  vassalage. 

XVI. 

Sped  he  thro'out  the  West ; — peasant  and  peer 
Listened  whenever  power,  argus-eyed, 
Seemed  wanting  vigilance.     Some,  scorning  fear, 
Attended  midnight  prayer,  or  hushed  would  glide 
At  eve  or  dawn,  to  where  he  prophesied; 
From  far  and  wide,  soul-stirring  Puritan 
Gathered  conventicles  of  sorely-tried, 
Men,  just  and  brave :  speeding  the  godly  plan 
Of  truth,  of  liberty,  full  franchisement  of  man. 

XVII. 

"Seek  not  effect  such  purpose,"  once  he  cried, 
"In  this  polluted  realm,  wailing  thro'  time; 
True,  we  have  kept  alive,  else  had  it  died, 
The  flame  of  Liberty ;  oh !  how  sublime, 
Could  it  but  blaze,  high  as  yon  heaven  climb! 
But  what  a  spark,  how  dim,  it  scarcely  glows  ; 
To  fan  its  flickering  flame  is  held  a  crime ! 
Why  wear  your  lives  away  in  fruitless  throes  ? 
There  an  uncumber'd  continent  high  heaven  bestows. 


&»»*";.]  PURITAN.  75 

XVIII. 

"Haste  to  possess  it;  native  monarchs  there 
Across  yon  Ocean  beckon  you  to  come; 
Kindly  and  faithful,  they  have  promised  share 
The  exhaustless  lands  o'er  which  they  idly  roam  ; 
Or  prove  they  false,  and  sudden  wrath  assume 
What  are  they,  naked,  with  their  puny  arms? 
As  leaves  before  the  winds,  or  Ocean's  foam 
Before  the  gale  evanishing— their  harms — 
One  blast  of  missiles  ours, a  mighty  host  alarms." 

XIX. 

He,  eloquent,  convinced  with  stirring  words  ; 
But  when  the  thoughtless,  or  the  wanton  press'd 
To  eager  haste,  hot-headed,  brandish'd  swords, 
With  ribald  oaths,  and  fickle  souls  confessed, 
"Stay!  stay!"  he  cried,  "it  needeth  not  attest 
True  zeal  with  blasphemy;  this  work  requires 
Sore  labor,  righteousness,  it  needs  the  best, 
Of  steady  fearless  purpose,  calm  desires, 
Strong  trust  in  God,  true  faith,  patience  that  never  tires. 

XX. 

"  But  shrink  not,  oh  !  ye  worthy  !  from  the  pains ; 
Whatever  was  accomplished  from  the  first 
Without  sore  travail?     He  who  long  refrains 
In  pride  or  sloth  from  labor,  is  accurs'd; 
The  fallacies  of  ease,  too  fondly  nursed, 
By  pampered  luxury's  minions  in  this  land, 
Wake  vengeance  ;  suffering,  hunger,  cold,  and  thirst 
The  least — the  times  strong  energies  demand ; 
Pure  hearts,  clear  minds,  strong  arms  in  righteousness  to  stand. 


76  PURITAN.  [c«»  vi. 

XXI. 

"  Brave  to  advance  the  dignity  of  toil, 
The  worth  of  labor,  as  a  means  and  end ; 
Not  solely  to  secure  ignoble  spoil, 
Of  worldly  riches, — but  the  blood  to  send 
Throbbing,  and  healthful ;   know  ye,  souls  depend 
Upon  this  vital  aftion  ;  and  the  mind 
Uninjured  by  disease,  is  free  to  spend 
It  vigor  in  achievement;  souls  to  find 
Food  for  development  for  heaven,  as  God  designed. 

XXII. 

"Far  in  the  East,  the  myriad  slaves  exist, 
To  toil  forever  at  a  monarch's  will; 
To  rear  vast  monuments,  that  may  resist 
All  change  for  ages;  monuments  of  skill, 
Eternal  monuments,  that  well  may  fill 
Posterity  with  wonder;  tasks  like  those 
Prove  Power  absolute,  pregnant  with  ill; 
Fearful  discrepancy,  one  will  to  impose 
What  million  hands  must  execute  without  repose. 

XXIII. 

"Where  are  the  haunts,  where  are  the  homes  of  these? 
Of  individuality,  there  lives 
No  trace,  save  these,  of  their  past  miseries: — 
In  nearer  past,  enlightened  power  strives 
Create  thro'  zeal,  enlightened  donatives, 
T' advance  its  selfish  ends;  where  beauteous  art, 
Exquisitely  wrought  matter    still  survives, 
Expressive  of  the  exalted  soul,  true  heart, 
Know  liberty  alone  can  genius  life  impart. 


canto  vi.-\  PURITAN.  77 

XXIV. 

"A  noble  and  enlighten'd  kingly  sway, 
Gives  freedom  to  each  individual  soul ; 
Unshadowed  by  dread  Upas'  power,  art  may 
Freely  spring  up  and  blossom,  for  control 
Imagination  brooks  not;  and  in  dole 
The  intellectual  suffers,  to  express 
Its  knowledge;  virtue,  would  the  world  console; 
Wise  power  will  be  an  atmosphere  to  bless 
Such  rare  fruition, — tho'  its  end  is  selfishness. 

XXV. 

"But  why  to  thee  these  thoughts  of  kingdoms  tell? 
Ye  would  away  with  empire,  as  the  vast 
But  too  unwieldy  Roman  empire  fell 
Into  decay,  ye  would  that  men  should  cast 
All  kingdoms  into  atoms.      Ye  may  blast 
Your  own  best  hopes  with  rashness;  men  must  learn 
Wise  lessons  of  self-knowledge ;  speaks  the  past, 
They  must  be  wise    who  would  be  free;  must  yearn 
With  toil   for  knowledge,  that  the  right  they  may  discern. 

XXVI. 

"Strangely  the  Course  of  Empire  Westward  moves! 
And  when,  to  reach  a  new  world's  shore,  it  needs 
O'er  yon  vast  Ocean  float,  it  well  behooves 
Him  who  a  nation's  founders  thither  leads, 
Deeply  to  ponder,  as  his  toil  proceeds. 
Spain  sought  with  untold  wealth  and  pow'r  to  build 
An  empire  on  that  continent;  what  deeds, 
What  toils  heroic  there,  by  brave,  proud-willed, 
Strong  armed,  undaunted  knights,  with  burning  ardor  fill'd! 


78  PURITAN.  [.Canto  Yl. 

XXVII. 

"Did  not  Columbus  toil,  and  plead,  and  pray? 
Did  not  heroic  Cortez  labor  there, 
Performing  deeds  of  valor,  many  a  day, 
Toils  which  great  Hercules  had  shrunk  to  bear? 
Did  not  Balboa  strive  with  anxious  care, 
Far  o'er  the  steep  vast  Andes,  to  transport 
Piecemeal  great  ships,  did  he  to  labor  spare? 
And  yet  Pizarro,  he  did  travail  court, 
Sore  toils  on  land  and  sea,  for  ends  of  basest  sort? 

XXVIII. 

"  Such  efforts  for  the  most,  secured  success ; 
But  came  an  end  of  Conquest,  and  the  gold 
E'en  of  Peru,  and  Mexico  still  less, 
The  fine  wrought  gold  was  gone;  what  wealth  untold 
The  mountain  mines  still  from  their  grasp  might  hold, 
None  knew ;  but  it  must  be  secured  by  toil 
Of  human  hands — the  means  which  must  unfold 
All  earth's  resources — these,  their  hands  ne'er  soil, 
Should  Spain's  Grandees  there  dig  and  delve,  tho'  gold  the 
spoil ! 

XXIX. 

"  They  could  to  death  work  slaves,  fight  who  might  thers 
Develop  what  they  could  not;  but  their  land 
A  century  long,  hath  lain  forlorn  and  bare, 
Accursed  by  proud  idolatrous  command; 
Long  as  their  rule  so  let  it  barren  stand; 
Nor  bring  forth  gold  to  crush  with  haughty  pow'r, 
The  infancy  of  nations,  that  demand 
To  labor  for  their  rights,  now  comes  the  hour 
For  their  deserved  supremacy ;  tyrants  must  covv'r. 


Canto  I'L]  PURITAN.  79 

xxx. 

"Haste — haste  ye,  to  possess  the  inviting  shore! 
Make  labor  there  a  duty  and  a  pride; 
Laugh  him  to  scorn  who  scorns,  and  more  and  more 
Prove  to  the  world,  the  blessings  that  abide 
With  those  who  God  obey  ;  toiling,  confide 
To  Him  there  labour's  issue;  he  who  sows 
Shall  reap;  not  selfishly- — for  thus  allied 
Allegiance  to  the  State  secures  repose, 
And  all  will  vie  t' support  its  laws  and  smite  its  foes. 

XXXI. 

"He  will  make  the  wilderness  like  Eden; 
Thanksgiving,  and  the  voice  of  melody, 
Peace,  joy,  and  gladness,  will  be  found  therein; 
Come,  come  ye  warm  brave  hearts,  yours  shall  it  be 
To  give  rich  blessings  to  posterity  ! 
— Tho'  ye  may   suffer,  and  must  labor  sore — 
God's  truth,  and  righteousness,  and  liberty, 
'There  shall  a  man  be  precious' — yea, far  more — 
More  precious  than  fine-beaten  gold  in  goodly  store. 

XXXII. 

"  Each  one  shall  help  his  neighbor;  there  shall  be 
No  lords,  no  class  proscribed,  each  man  shall  strive 
Helpful  to  be  to  each ; — right  speedily 
The  work  shall  prosper,  not  a  soulless  hive, 
Where  rulers  by  the  toils  of  thousands  thrive, 
Vast  monuments  of  grandeur  to  uprear; 
No  tokens  of  such  bonds  will  there  revive, 
But  on  the  plains,  and  o'er  the  hills  appear, 
Dear  homes,  to  each  the  best  reward,  evermore  dear. 


8o  PURITAN.  [&*» 

XXXIII. 

"Each  from  his  cottage  door  shall  see  the  green 
Of  God's  own  fields,  the  shrubs,  the  many  trees, 
In  fullest  leaf;  and  pluck  the  fruits  I  ween; 
And  each  shall  hear  the  waters'  melodies 
Murmuring  concert  with  the  harmonies 
Of  birds,  and  breathe  the  pure  fresh  air  of  heaven ; 
And  see  the  clouds  changed  by  each  shifting  breeze, 
And  yon  great  azure  dome,  at  starry  ev'n, 
At  noon,  at  dawn;  a  sight  these  mists  have  seldom  given. 

XXXIV. 

"  There  free  and  pure  may  little  children  play, 
And  aged  parents  rest  them  from  their  cares ; 
For  competence  and  comfort  will  repay 
Wise  toil,  frugality  and  fervor  theirs ; 
Old  age,  of  health,  and  happiness  and  prayers, 
A  blessing  gives  remote  posterity, 
The  soul  for  entrance  into  heaven  prepares. 
Will  ye  not  choose  such  life,  has  luxury 
Or  ease  a  single  hope,  of  such  prosperity  ?" 


PURITAN. 


CANTO    THE    SEVENTH. 


FINAL   SUCCESS. 


I. 

,OT  unsuccessful,  was  the  fervent  zeal 
Of  Puritan ;  it  won  the  sure  reward 
Such  toil  must  ever  win.      God  did  reveal 
To  him,  hate,  pride,  and  avarice    to  ward, 
Conflicting  interests   to  make  accord; 
And  tho'  the  king  had  set  his  seal  to  give 
That  Continent  away — accounted  Lord 
Of  what  he  had  not  won — prerogative 
How  vain!    Was  not  the  land  for  those  who  there  should  live  ? 

II. 

He  mingled  in  the  thickest  of  the  fray; 
Sandys,  Virginius'  friend,  espoused  his  cause, 
Coke,  powerfully  pleading,  swept  away 
The  fallacies  of  Kings'  unrighteous  laws; 
Vainly  the  council  to  its  measures  draws 
The  strong  defense  of  Avalon's  pure  zeal, 
The  energy  of  Gorges,  kings  applause  ; 
In  parliament  the  wisest  ill  conceal 
The  deep  concern  for  Puritan's  success  all  feel. 

(8 1) 


82  PURITJN.  [Canto  Vll 

III. 

For  Lord-Proprietors,  would  sit  at  ease 
Within  the  realm,  and  hands  must  hasten  thenct 
To  labor,  and  return  their  gains  to  these; 
Aye  it  was  futile;  well  the  world  might  stare, 
When  they  in  wrath  command  a  knight  repair 
To  that  far  coast,  equipped  to  hold  the  land 
Far  stretching,  and  the  restless  sea;  nor  spare 
Who  dared  his  net  to  spread  along  the  strand, 
Or  on  the  mighty  shores,  untaxed,  presume  to  stand. 

IV. 

Mason  and  Gorges  merit  praise,  not  scorn ; 
They  helped  the  mighty  work,  not  as  they  wished, 
But  as  He  willed;   their  day  was  passed;   the  morn 
Of  brighter  day  was  dawning;  those  assist 
Who  thought  its  coming  they  might  eath  resist; 
Sir  Alexander,  armed  him  at  their  call, 
From  far-off  Scotia  (of  the  gift  ye  wist) 
To  fight  their  battles;  he  was  brave  and  tall, 
He  reached  their  coast,  he  sailed  along,  and  that  was  all. 

V. 

Saving  a  name  for  Scotland,  all  his  toil 
Was  fruitless;  won  he  not  a  rood  of  land 
Upon  the  continent;   'twas  wished-for  spoil, 
Yet  when  he  saw  the  countless  bays  expand, 
The  wild,  cold  rocky  coast  his  care  demand, 
Dark  on  the  deep  dark  waters,  and  the  gloom, 
Deep  dark  as  Ocean,  where  the  forests  stand, 
He  turned  away  disheartened,  to  assume 
Power  there,  against  the  power  of  France  who  would  pre- 


Canto  VU.-\  PURITAN.  83 

VI. 

With  singleness  of  purpose,  naught  could  daunt, 
Pressed  Puritan  his  suit;  with  knights  allied, 
The  best,  and  bravest,  entered  Troynovant; 
Now  gave  new  hopes,  new  fervor,  friends  supplied 
Gold  in  profusion;  tho'  the  court  decried 
From  all  contending  claimants,  he  secured 
The  land  washed  by  two  Oceans,  for  so  wide 
The  vision  told — nor  less  had  he  endured — 
Vague  limits,  but  the  hopes  were  clear  which  them  allured. 

VII. 

Lest  foes  might  breed  dissensions,  turned  he  hence ; 
A  doughty  knight,  and  one  he  trusted  well, 
Straight  he  dispatched  to  prove  the  land's  defense, 
While  he  within  the  realms  might  still  compel 
Fast  friends  to  hasten  thither;  seeking  quell 
The  rising  humors  of  his  enemies. 
Brave  Endicot,  to  that  far  citadel, 
Despite  the  raging  Ocean's  jeopardies, 
Thy  faithful  spouse,  thy  babes  thou  bearest  as  sureties, 

VIII. 

Of  faith,  of  zeal  sincere,  of  sure  success! 
And  with  what  earnest  cheer  upon  that  shore 
So  far  and  wild,  Conant's  long  loneliness — 
Watching  since  Puritan's  long  leave  before — 
Was  ended ;  friends  rejoicing  more  and  more, 
When  they  had  learned  these  faithful  knights  there  dwelt 
With  full  an  hundred  followers,  with  store 
Of  all  things  needful;  kindly  He  had  dealt 
With  those  who  had  advanced  His  cause,  true  fervor  felt. 


84  PURITAN.  [&«»  rn. 

IX. 

Still  spread  the  Godly  leaven,  far  and  near, 
Earnest,  courageous  followers,  rose  and  armed 
To  conquer  in  His  service;  joy  sincere, 
Glowing  imaginations,  wak'ning  charmed 
The  doubting;  not  the  weakest  were  alarmed, 
By  Ocean's  dangers,  or  the  wild  shore's  gloom; 
These  were  not  exiles  that  rude  power  had  harmed, 
They  were  the  cheerful  followers,  glad  to  assume 
For  Him  e'en  poverty,  and  care,  nor  feared  the  tomb. 

X. 

If  there  was  more  chivalric  fire,  the  day 
The  hermit  Peter  roused  the  faithful  hosts 
Thro'  all  the  West,  to  arm,  and  make  their  way 
For  far-off  Palestine's  untraveled  coasts, 
To  win  the  Holy  Tomb  from  baleful  hosts 
Of  hated  infidels — nere  was  true  zeal, 
Intense,    enduring;     fervently  it  boasts 
A  nobler  purpose,  for  the  whole  world's  weal, 
To  win  a  realm  for  Christ,  and  His  pure  truth  reveal. 

XI. 

To  yon  poor  heathens  perishing  for  light ; 
His  chosen  servants  welcome  weal  or  woe; 
Enraptured  scores  attend  the  Godly  knight; 
The  crowded  ships  the  waves  wash  to  and  fro, 
Deep  sinking  in  the  waters,  forth  they  go, 
In  valiant  chaplain's  and  brave  knight's  command; 
For  Puritan  yet  lingers  to  bestow 
Blessing  he  must  with  vital  strength  demand, 
Lest  hostile  powers  within  the  realm  his  hopes  withstand. 


Canto  ru.-\  PURITAN.  85 

XII. 

For  he  had  felt  the  bonds  that  so  enthralled 
Virginias  in  his  labors,  and  to  look 
For  justice  from  far  councils  sore  appalled 
His  anxious  heart;  far-seeing  faith  could  brook 
The  monarch's  insincerity,  but  shook 
To  think  how  foes,  aye,  friends,  might  harm  his  cause, 
Or  future  powers  molest  their  chosen  nook 
Far  off  and  unprotected;  crush  with  laws 
Which  he  could  not  prevent ;  he  wished  not  man's  applause, 

XIII. 

Still  less,  to  be  dependent  on  the  will 
Of  any  human;  'twixt  him  and  his  God, 
No  creature  to  impose  e'en  rules  that  fill 
His  soul  with  fervor;  he  toward  heaven  would  plod 
His  chosen  way  alone,  if  others  trod 
Obedient  to  the  word,  and  inner  light, 
He  had  discerned,  submissive  to  his  nod, 
These  he  rejoiced  to  welcome,  and  aright 
Champions  of  freedom  and  free  faith  attend  the  knight. 

XIV. 

Soon  others  blindly,  or  for  selfish  ends 
Yielding  to  his  persuasion,  gave  command, 
And  well-nigh  every  power  to  his  true  friends ; 
'Twas  wisely  done,  a  powerful,  bold  band, 
Unflinching,  zealous,  wise,  united  stand ; 
And  warily,  th'  ambiguous  clauses  writ 
Transfer,  the  few  perceive  it,  to  his  hand, 
The  rule  of  that  far  planting;  benefit, 
Beyond  all  words,  sage  hero  for  that  work  how  fit! 

12 


86  PURITAN.  [C""'  rii 

xv 

If  there  was  zeal  before,  now  ardor  burned  ; 
Enthusiasm  warmed  the  nation's  heart; 
Hundreds  flocked  to  his  standards,  and  there  turned 
A  fleet  with  anxious  prows,  chafing  to  start ; 
Knights  and  fair  women  fervently  impart 
Strength,  purity;  and  children  seemed  inspired 
To  lend  their  aid,  with  fond  and  simple  art; 
Teachers,  prophetically  wise,  conspired 
To  speed  the  mighty  work  with  faith  and  strength  untired 

XVI. 

The  body-corporate  launched  on  the  sea ! 
The  rudimental  state,  seeking  abode, 
Bearing  its  subtly-chartered  liberty; 
Subjects  and  rulers,  variously  bestowed 
On  many  ships,  the  stormy  waters  rode; 
How  many  hundreds  followed  where  he  led! 
How  many  pure  and  godly  hearts  there  glowed 
With  speechless  fervor!  as  they  onward  sped. 
Disease  and  danger  tried  their  hearts,  yet  none  misled. 

XVII. 

As  when  the  sun,  advancing  from  the  East, 
Brightens  the  far  horizon,  glowing  hues 
Of  brilliancy,  by  nearing  beams  increased, 
Until  the  clouds,  effulgent  light  imbues, 
Each  moment  deepening,  till  the  gazer  rues 
The  blinding  glories  of  the  full-orbed  sun; 
Then  earth,  the  rays  receives  in  sparkling  dews, 
Infinite  hues  of  beauty  she  has  won; 
Dark  clouds,  late  fair,  those  rays  enfold  and  earth  has  none 


Car.t*  ^//.]  PURITAN.  87 

XVIII. 

But  earth  is  little  saddened,  light  is  fair, 
The  zenith  blue,  the  fields  a  fresh  glad  green, 
And  e'en  the  dismal  clouds  embosom  there 
The  glowing  sunshine,  tho'  it  may  be  seen 
But  heavenward,  above  thro'  space  serene ; 
So  seemed  the  valiant  hosts,  that  Puritan 
Now  led  afar;   imaginations  sheen 
Had  lit  the  far  horizon,  and  outran 
Dull  reason — then  their  brightest  tinted  hopes  began. 

XIX. 

They  beamed  upon  them,  every  thing  aglow ; 
Their  plans  perfected,  on  the  sea  they  ride  ; 
But  clouds  o'er  shadow  dark,  as  on  they  go, 
Disease,  sore  sorrows — how  their  souls  were  tried 
Yet  found  they  life  and  light,  the  heavenward  side. 
Upon  the  lonely  undeveloped  shore, 
None  felt  repining — faithfully  they  bide 
His  will,  heaven  seemed  more  near,  low  bending  o'er 
These  devotees,  than  where  hosts  worship'd  Him  before. 

XX. 

To  bear  not  grudgingly,  but  with  a  soul 
Cheerful,  submissive  to  the  Father's  will ! 
Blest  Christian  principle,  that  shall  control 
The  Universe ;  the  purposes  fulfill 
Of  Him  who  died  to  stem  earth's  flood  of  ill  ; 
Kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth — Thy  will  be  done ; 
Humility,  forgiveness,  love  instill ; 
For  thus  God's  tender  grace  is  surely  won  ; 
With  all  the  power  of  God,  He  was  the  lowliest  one, 


88  PURITAN.  I>»«  ^//. 

XXI. 

This  is  an  area  where  all  may  strive  ; 
Who  is  the  lowliest,  the  rudest  born — 
Who  is  the  loftiest  of  all  alive — 
Station  is  nothing,  may  ye  not  all  mourn, 
And  bear  disease,  or  pain,  reproach,  or  scorn  ? 
Ye  all  may  suffer,  aye — ye  shall,  and  must; 
But  never  grief  like  His  hath  any  borne  ; 
It  is  God's  roll  of  honor;   He  is  just; 
The  least  shall  be  the  greatest:  sorrowing  ones,  have  trust. 

XXII. 

Life,  health,  friends,  ease  and  goodly  nourishment, 
Riches  and  luxuries,  men  strive  to  gain; 
But  Puritan's  brave  hosts  there  underwent 
The  loss  of  every  thing,  that  men  are  fain 
To  prize.      What  numbers  died!  they  suffered  pain, 
And  famine,  toil,  and  grief  on  barren  coast, 
A  strip  betwixt  terrific  stormy  main, 
And  forests  dense,  primeval,  where  a  host 
Of  treach'rous  natives  made  their  evil  deeds  their  boast, 

XXIII. 

To  win  free  space  to  pray ! — it  was  indeed 
A  very  Bethel;  tho'  he  never  saw 
The  angels  that  descended,  thence  to  lead 
Their  lost  ones  up  to  heaven,  sure  he  did  draw 
Deep  inspirations  from  God's  love  and  law. 
Had  Charite  survived — Humilite 
In  love  been  won,  that  sad  self-righteous  flaw 
His  noble  heart  had  grieved.    Intolera 
Alas!  inflamed  each  fault,  tainting  posterity. 


Can*  Vll.-\  PURITAN.  8 

XXIV. 

There  formed  they  embryonic  villages, 
Along  the  Ocean,  where  the  ships  might  ride; 
Of  their  past  lands  and  lives  sole  vestiges; 
Ye  ships!  ye  are  a  blessing  and  a  pride! 
Ye  ministering  spirits  of  the  wide, 
Wide  earth,  and  Ocean-severed  continents . 
Without  your  aid,  the  waters  that  divide 
The  lands,  had  ever  been  admonishments 
Of  impotence,  as  are  the  subtler  elements. 

XXV. 

Are  ye  not  voices?  sure  from  shore  to  shore 
Ye  breathe  fond  words,  and  speak  from  mind  to  mind, 
Words  of  deep  knowledge,  power,  inspired  lore ! 
And  ye  are  hands,  to  bear  to  all  mankind 
Most  precious  gifts;  ah!  human  hearts  ye  bind 
In  love,  far  peoples  send  their  treasures  where 
Ye  tell  who  needeth,  and  the  favoring  wind, 
The  breath  of  God,  doth  onward  deign  to  bear 
Your  white  wings  full  against  the  blue  so  wondrous  fair. 

XXVI. 

Would  they  could  lift  you  from  the  dark  abyss, 
And  bear  you  upward  thro'  the  deep'ning  blue ! 
When,  when  will  man  attain  that  yearned-for  bliss? 
The  lark  rebukes  his  ignorance,  it  knew 
Ages  ago  to  soar;  the  eagle  flew 
With  mighty  wings,  its  wisdom  from  the  first! 
Man's  growing  knowledge  could  the  sea  subdue, 
Light,  heat,  he  made  to  serve  him;  lightning  durst 
To  tame;  but  gravitation's  bonds,  when  will  he  burst? 


90  PURITAN.  [&»« 

XXVII. 

Oh  ships!  strong  wing'd,  swift,  faithful  agencies, 
Taught  by  the  mind  of  man  ye  have  built  up 
This  continent !  the  deathless  energies 
Of  wise  Colono,  dared  with  thee  to  grope 
Beyond  the  limits  of  all  other's  hope: 
Ye  led  the  boldest  to  possess  this  land, 
Brought  builders,  all  things  needful,  strong  to  cope 
With  every  ill :  ye  decked  the  barren  strand, 
And  made  the  Seas  as  highways  as  men's  needs  demand. 

XXVIII. 

Here  was  the  spirit  dear  to  Puritan ; 
'Men  eager  for  achievement;  wise  to  advance 
The  welfare  of  the  State;  it  straight  began 
To  prosper;  ships  sped  o'er  the  wide  expanse, 
Intent  with  fostering  care,  its  weal  t'  enhance. 
The  peoples,  fearless,  full  of  enterprise, 
Pressed  onward  for  abode  or  sustenance ; 
Or  by  adventurous  spirits  led,  surprise 
The  far-off  forests,  and  new  regions  civilize. 

XXIX. 

Soon  as  great  Puritan's  parental  care 
Wants  physical,  all  infant  needs  supplied, 
He  intellectual  culture  'gan  prepare ; 
And  most  of  all  the  morals  sought  to  guide; 
Religious  training  zealous  to  provide, 
Made  lawful,  dangerous  espionage; 
Aye  strengthen'd  innate  germs  of  selfish  pride; 
The  very  ills  he  sought  by  flight  to  assuage, 
Shall  these  perpetuate,  and  e'en  their  friends  enrage? 


Cantor  11.1  PURITAN  91 

xxx. 

Is  this  a  Zion,  where  the  saints  alone 
Shall  enter?     Who  can  tell  the  constant  care 
Of  every  soul,  that  there  shall  not  be  one 
Of  diverse  faith  among  his  followers  there; 
Who  dares  to  love,  or  use  the  written  prayer 
Who  dares  to  think,  much  less  to  speak  a  word, 
His  solemn  covenant  doth  not  declare 
To  him,  no  rest  this  haven  may  afford  ! 
All  must  believe  as  he  believes,  or  be  abhorred — 

XXXI. 

Be  driven  back  across  the  raging  Sea, 
Or  cast  amid  the  howling  wilderness! 
And  many  felt  his  arm  fall  heavily, 
For  he  was  stern,  and  proud,  and  strong  t'  impress 
His  will  with  energy  and  stubbornness; 
And  held  denial  of  his  ghostly  power 
Political  hostility:  unless 
Faith  unitorm  prevailed,  the  ills  that  lower 
O'er  other  lands,  might  here  arise  in  fatal  hour 

XXXII. 

Freedom  and  sanctity  of  conscience  right? 
Right,  to  permit  men  to  believe  and  teach 
Error  ?     Shall  God's  own  chosen  tolerate 
Sin  and  foul  heresy?     These  will  impeach 
Who  shall  declare  the  liberty  of  each 
To  his  own  faith;  the  truth  all  must  believe; 
Taught  by  the  faithful,  nor  with  wanton  speech 
Attempt  defense,  the  souls  of  saints  to  grieve, 
They  must  at  least  profess  belief,  whom  these  receive. 


92  PURITAN.  [£""> yu- 

XXXIII. 

Know  ye  Rogerus?    Never  nobler  soul 
Dwelt  in  the  bosom  of  a  mortal  man; 
Not  that  chivalrous  knight  poets  extol, 
Who  fought  and  conquered  under  Charlemagne, 
Wedded  to  Britomartis,  whence  began 
A  mighty  race  of  kings;   braver  than  he — 
A  noble  compeer  this,  of  Puritan — 
Whom  he  had  loved  and  served  and  faithfully 
Followed  from  far,  still  fond  to  serve  chivalrously. 

XXXIV. 

A  vaunt,  Rogerus!    Is  the  world  not  wide? 
Disturb  them  not  with  new  unwonted  light; 
Hence  Aquiday !     No  knight  shall  here  abide 
Who  is  not  meek  and  faithful:  hence  Wheelright, 
And  Aspinwall,  hence  Coddington,  what  right 
Hast  thou  to  brave  this  knight  despitefully  ? 
Wenlock,  Dyer,  Leddra,  Marmaduke  invite 
Sentence  of  death;  in  vain  he  bids  them  fly, 
They  vow  t'  abide,  and  by  his  hand  die  wretchedly. 

XXXV. 

But  farthest  followers  of  his  Godly  faith 
Found  succor  at  his  hands;  his  care  extends 
O'er  far  Connecticut;  he  saves  from  wrath 
Far  as  Lygonia,  Gorgeana,  lends 
His  aid:  he  Agamenticus  defends, 
And  his  own  Plymouth,  ever  near  and  dear; 
And  from  his  growing  people  proudly  sends 
Succor  to  England,  when  his  brethren  there, 
The  doom  of  kings  and  prelates  wrath  are  forced  to  bear. 


canto  rn.-\  PURITAN.  93 

XXXVI. 

Thus  was  achieved  his  onerous  enterprise; 
He  led  the  van  across  the  mighty  deep; 
He  roused  the  nation's  latent  energies, 
Giving  an  impulse  that  should  never  sleep, 
For  myriad  souls,  the  vigils  hence  should  keep. 
The  many  villages  he  planted  there, 
Strong  arms,  the  mighty  wilderness  to  sweep 
With  power  away,  nor  savages  to  spare, 
In  earnest  struggles  these  'gainst  nature  bring  to  bear. 

XXXVII. 

This  work  of  human  hands — by  dauntless  will 
Encouraged  and  directed,  fills  the  world 
With  wonder;  far-off  nations  gazing  still, 
To  mark  how  Puritanic  race  has  hurled 
The  gauntlet  of  achievement,  and  unfurled 
Its  standard,  Liberty,  with  power  and  pride  ! 
Where  human  progress  all  the  past  has  purled, 
Here  an  advancing  flood — deep,  swift,  and  wide — - 
What  can  withstand  the  power  of  the  willful  tide  ? 

XXXVIII. 

Who  can  predict  results  ?     He  who  can  stand 
Upon  the  extremest  verge  of  time,  and  gaze 
From  then  to  now  on  changes  in  this  land, 
May  shrink  from  all  predictions;  naught  can  raise 
The  veil  of  dark  futurity,  that  lays 
E'en  o'er  to-morrow;  who  now  dares  conceive 
What  will  be,  when  two  centuries  long  maze 
Have  crystallized  in  facts;  sure  ye  believe 
With  much  to  praise,  vast  changes  may  bring  much  to  grieve. 
13 


94-  PURITAN.  O*'0  l'lL 

XXXIX. 

Be  wise,  Oh  nation!     Power  for  weal  or  woe 
Dwells  in  the  bosom  of  each  citizen; 
Past  history  doth  clearly  to  thee  show 
Th'  undisciplined  fierce  passions  of  past  men  ; 
Will  not  each  curb  bis  dangerous  passions  then? 
Priceless  experience  of  all  mankind — 
When  will  man  learn  its  worth  ?    Oh  when,  Oh  when  ? 
Blest  is  the  nation  that  doth  early  find 
To  learn  from  others'  woes,  ere  passion  makes  it  blind  ! 


